


A Thousand Miles from Nowhere

by smiles2go



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Efforts at comfort, Gen, Hurt Tony, Psychotic break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:32:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smiles2go/pseuds/smiles2go
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...it was painfully obvious that the cracks were there all along, only somehow no one ever saw them least of all Tony. Not until the final crack sent him through the ice down into the cold, dark water unable to breathe and no way out. Not slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A thousand Miles from Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> Standard Disclaimer: Not mine, song or characters. Just making ‘em dance on puppet strings for your amusement.
> 
> I know nothing about mental breakdowns, psychotic or otherwise, so I’ll apologize for any medical issues before we start. This is my first song fic so I hope you enjoy. This fic was first posted on FF

~oOo~

 

It’d been a bad day on top of a bad week and Tony’s limit was so far gone he couldn’t see a hint of it in the rear view mirror anymore. Everyone was tired and frustrated and expected Tony to keep it all together and be Gibbs. They’d never gone this long with so many unsolved cases and with Gibbs out in LA with Vance things were only going to get worse. Nobody but Gibbs could _be Gibbs._

They were still processing the murder scene of a marine shot in the back of the head execution style and found half-buried in brush in Rock Creek Park when they got the call about a dead navy lieutenant, possible suicide. Tony grumbled loudly into the phone arguing with dispatch that they couldn’t possibly take the case right now, but there was no one else to send and Tony wrote down the information and prayed for strength or Gibbs to come back.

“I’m done. Got a suicide to go check out. Bag and tag Probie and Probette, you’re almost done. Ride with Ducky in the truck. Palmer, you’re with me.” Tony turned away ignoring their protests and started for the car.

McGee followed him still protesting that Tony shouldn’t go alone, it wasn’t protocol. “Ziva can go with Ducky. I—“ 

Tony turned around and tried out his version of Gibbs’ glare. “Did I stutter McWhiny?” McGee shook his head and started to protest one more time when Tony interrupted him. “Then why are you arguing?” Tony turned around and started walking toward the car while trying to stretch the knots out of his back. “Palmer!” He shouted before lifting the phone to his ear. 

Tony leaned against the car making notes waiting for Palmer to gather enough equipment to deal with a suicide before Ducky could unload the dead marine and meet them at the new scene. He watched McGee stomp away, frowning at the anger practically radiating off him. Something had to break soon or they’d all be crazy. Unless Gibbs came back early and killed them first. He snorted and got in the car to program the GPS.

He ignored Palmer’s excited chatter, doing his own impression of Gibbs’ stony silence until Palmer got the message and stared out the window. Gibbs had been gone before and he’d managed without having to pull out his inner ‘Gibbs’ persona’, but they just wouldn’t pay attention to him when he used his Team Leader voice or face. Tony shelved the thought for now, too many dead bodies and Gibbs was on the other side of the country with his own problems to solve.

A police car was parked out front of the standard white-picket-fence house in the standard yuppie neighborhood with concerned neighbors stood around in groups, whispering at each other. Tony sighed and pasted on a pleasant face, knowing a smile was out of the question.

He pulled up behind the police car, not waiting on Palmer who went to the trunk to lug out the heavy cases. The officer was still inside the house and Tony shook his head. If this had been a crime scene, Gibbs would’ve had someone’s head. No one was watching the door; no one was talking to the neighbors and taking statements. He strode through the wide open front door and hoped things were more under control inside.

Hearing hushed voices in another room, Tony walked through the unguarded house shaking his head. Gibbs was going to blow a gasket when he read his report.

He found them in the family room. The lieutenant was in dress whites lying on her back on the couch, bright red blood matting the side of her head, one hand flung out as if reaching for the gun lying half under the coffee table, blood slowly dripping from her fingers. _Just like…_ He swallowed hard, wrenching his eyes away. Taking a deep breath, Tony almost suffocated from the smell—fresh blood. The uniformed officer was crouched on the carpet, both arms around a dark-haired boy about eight or nine. _Hell and damnation._ Tony’s lips tightened. _Why the hell hadn’t he taken the kid outside?_

__“Officer?” He skirted widely around the couch resolutely keeping his eyes averted and approached them, holding his breath as long as possible before taking quick, shallow gulps of air. The boy’s face was white and frozen, dark eyes haunted, filled with terror. He knew that look – knew it intimately. The kid clutched the officer’s hand silently, not wiping at the tears sliding down his face. He must have found the body—his mother. Tony’s heart stuttered and he forced the memory down, forced his eyes to stay on the officer. _No. No. No.__ _

__The officer turned and stood, leaving one hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Officer Remmick. You NCIS?” He didn’t seem to notice as the boy twisted around to stare at his mother, his face unreadable._ _

__“Yeah. Special Agent Tony DiNozzo.” Tony pulled out his badge and flashed his identification before opening his notebook to jot down any information when he heard a commotion at the front door. _Palmer,_ he thought with a frown and asked about the body._ _

__“Son found her.” Officer Remmick offered, absently patting the boy’s head. “He called 911 and—“_ _

__A man burst into the room and stumbled to a halt, crazed eyes going to the body. “Debbie!” He screamed and ran to the couch, pulling the body into his arms. “No, no, no.” He wailed into her hair rocking her back and forth._ _

__“Sir! Please step back! You can’t touch her!” Tony strode over to the husband and forced him away, letting the body drop back on the couch with a thud. Jerking out of Tony’s arms, he wiped at his face smearing blood and caught sight of the frightened boy. “Sir, please. You need to step outside.” Tony looked around for Palmer and wished he’d called for backup. Grimacing at his hand with distaste, he wiped a smear of blood off against his pants._ _

__“You!” With a scream of rage, the man narrowed crazed eyes at the silent boy, forgotten across the room. The boy jerked at his father’s cry, but didn’t take his eyes off his mother’s body. “You did this! You killed her!” Snarling, the man pushed an unresisting Tony out of the way and grabbed the boy, shaking him violently and screaming loudly. “You little bastard! You killed your mother! This is your fault!”_ _

__Officer Remmick gasped and yanked the boy away from his father. “Stop this sir! He’s just a child!” Picking the boy up and holding him against his chest, he walked out of the room with a short nod to Tony. The father ran behind him still shrieking at his son._ _

__Tony stood silently, unable to move watching the blood spread across the white carpet. He’d seen violent death on numerous occasions, and heard many words used to describe the spread of blood: a stain, a blossom, a bloom, even dark fingers of blood, but no matter what flowery words were used, it was all the same. The life flowed out into the white carpet and your mother was just—gone._ _

__Through the rush of blood pounding in his ears, Tony heard someone calling his name from far away, but he was mesmerized, fascinated at the design. Red on white, just like…. Just like … “No, no, no.” He whispered frantically trying to tear his eyes away._ _

__“Your fault, you little bastard!” He heard the father shouting from the other room and Tony clenched his eyes shut at the sharp pain holding both palms out in surrender. “You did this! You killed your own mother!”_ _

__“No.” Palmer barely the whisper, as he finally made it into the room, looking backwards at the scene at the front door. “I didn’t mean to…please.”_ _

__“Tony? I called for backup. Ducky’s on his way and McGee will be here as soon as he can.” Palmer dumped the cases and knelt to open one. “Tony?” When Tony didn’t answer, Palmer looked up and with only one hand gloved, he stood and walked cautiously over to Tony who stood staring fixedly at the body. “Tony, are you okay?” He touched Tony’s arm with the gloved hand and when Tony didn’t react, he shook his arm harder. “Tony what’s wrong?”_ _

__“My fault. It’s all my fault.” Tony whispered and his face crumpled. “I’m sorry.”_ _

__“Tony! Tell me what’s wrong!” Palmer panicked and pulled out his phone, calling Ducky. “You didn’t do anything.” He told Tony while the phone rang. “This is not your fault.”_ _

__The bloodstain, the hand, still dripping blood, the smell, the screaming father, the boy’s white face—the pieces clicked together and something snapped inside his head and Tony DiNozzo checked out._ _

__Looking down at his phone, Palmer didn’t realize Tony had collapsed until he fell against him, both of them hitting the floor hard. Palmer lost his phone and managed to end up mostly underneath Tony, breaking his fall somewhat. After a moment Palmer sat up, started praying loudly and reached for his phone. Ducky was shouting hello already._ _

__“Dr. Mallard!” Palmer wailed into the phone. “You’ve got to—! I—help…Please!”_ _

___“Mr. Palmer! Calm down and breathe.”_ Ducky grumbled. _“What is the problem?”__ _

__Palmer sucked in a shaky breath and let it out slowly. Tony hadn’t moved and he wondered what had happened to the police officer. “It’s Tony, sir.”_ _

___“Is he alright?”_ Ducky asked abruptly. _“What is Anthony’s condition? Answer me Mr. Palmer!”__ _

__“I… I don’t know.” Palmer’s voice was high and he was just on this side of panic. “He muttered something and fainted. I don’t … Dr. Mallard how soon are you going to be here?”_ _

___“Timothy should arrive shortly. Now tell me, what is Anthony’s condition?”_ _ _

__“He uh, he’s unconscious. On the floor. We’re both on the floor.” Palmer shuddered and tried not to think about the bloodstain so very close._ _

___“Is he breathing normally? What’s his pulse? Have you taken his blood pressure? Checked his eyes? Is he sweating? Is his skin cold and clammy?”_ Ducky asked impatiently. _“Was he injured? Why are you both on the floor? Are you injured as well, Mr. Palmer?”__ _

__“Uh, no sir. I don’t know. I tried… I….” Palmer moved Tony’s head carefully to the carpet and crawled toward his cases. “I’m not injured and Tony didn’t appear injured when I came into the room. His breathing is shallow, but not labored.” He sat beside his case and looked up gratefully when McGee walked through the door. “Dr. Mallard, sir, Tim’s here. I’ll call you back.”_ _

___“Good. I—”_ Ducky said to a dead phone._ _

__“Tony!” McGee took in the room at a glance and rushed over to where Palmer was leaning over Tony, trying to take his pulse. “What happened, Palmer?” McGee knelt down and ran his hands over Tony’s body, looking for injuries._ _

__“He just … collapsed!” Palmer said distractedly and had to start counting over. “He said something about it being his fault and he just collapsed.”_ _

__Finding no obvious injury, McGee pulled his phone out and called Gibbs. Taking a deep breath at the terse voice that answered. _“What!”_ McGee stuttered out “B—b—b—boss?”_ _

___“Ya think McGee?”_ Gibbs barked impatiently. _“What is it McGee? I’m kind of busy here.”__ _

__“Boss, it’s Tony.” McGee took another deep breath and looked at Tony’s pale face. “He’s apparently collapsed for no reason at the scene. Palmer—“_ _

___“DiNozzo wouldn’t collapse for no reason, McGee. What does Ducky say?”_ McGee heard him talking to someone in the background._ _

__“Ducky isn’t here yet. Palmer—“_ _

___“Where the hell is Ducky?”_ Gibbs growled. _“Is the scene secured?”_ He could hear shouts in the background. _“Never mind. Secure the scene. Call Ziva, I’ve got—”_ McGee heard shots and Gibbs cursing as the call ended._ _

__“Okay Boss.” McGee put phone away and watched Palmer writing down notes in a little notebook. “Should we call 911? How soon is Ducky getting here?” McGee stood when Palmer shrugged and looked at him with frightened eyes. “I don’t know.”_ _

__“Dammit Palmer.” McGee stood looking around helplessly for a moment and then went about doing what Gibbs told him to do—secure the scene. The first thing he did was pickup Tony’s notepad and pen. Nothing on the open page seemed outside of normal. With a curse, he shoved it into his jacket pocket. Tony’s white Montblanc pen he put in an inside pocket where he wouldn’t lose it._ _

__“He’s not… he just looks like he fainted.” Palmer racked his brain for what to do. Realizing he was wearing only one glove, he found the mate and pulled it on._ _

__“Tony doesn’t collapse without a good reason.” McGee said reasonably, repeating Gibbs and went to talk to the officer outside. Maybe he had some idea of what happened._ _

__Tony groaned and raised a hand to his head. “Tony!” Palmer cried rushing to his side. “Tim! Tony’s waking up!” Helping Tony to sit up, Palmer had started babbling when Ducky strode into the room and knelt on one knee beside Tony._ _

__“Anthony, my boy, can you tell us what happened?” Ducky asked gently lifting Tony’s left hand and taking his pulse while his eyes examined Tony’s body. “Are you injured?”_ _

__Tony’s eyes darted around the room widening when they saw the body of the lieutenant. Tilting his head sideways, Tony’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I didn’t mean to.” He lifted one hand out to her but after a moment let if fall back to the floor._ _

__Glancing around to see what Tony was looking at, Ducky frowned and pulled out a small pen light out of his pocket to examine Tony’s eyes. “Mr. Palmer, please continue your examination of the lieutenant while I take care of Anthony.” Palmer debated telling Ducky that he hadn’t started the examination and shaking his head slightly got to his feet._ _

__Ducky shone the light in Tony’s eyes and was happy to find they reacted normally. “Now tell me, my boy, what is it you’re sorry for?” When Tony didn’t respond, Ducky turned his face away from the lieutenant’s body to look at him. Tony’s eyes were dazed, unfocused and Ducky clucked. “Anthony?”_ _

__“It’s my fault.” Tony’s mumbled in a colorless voice staring at Ducky without seeing him. “I killed her.”_ _

__Ducky gasped and looked back at the couch. “Mr. Palmer? What was the situation when you arrived?”_ _

__Palmer laid the lieutenant’s head back down and turned to look at Ducky, both gloves bloody. “The officer had just removed a child, a young boy, from the room and was handcuffing a man, apparently the father, who kept screaming at the boy that it this was his fault. That he’d killed his mother.” Palmer looked at Ducky a moment then turned back to the body. “The gunshot appears consistent with suicide at first glance, Dr. Mallard.”_ _

__“Anthony, what was your fault? Who did you kill?” Ducky snapped his fingers in Tony’s face without getting his attention. With a frustrated sigh, he shook Tony’s arm._ _

__“I did it.” Tony gestured vaguely and shivered. “I killed her.”_ _

__“No, Anthony, she killed herself.” Ducky said patiently. “Can you stand?” Tony looked down as if surprised to find himself on the floor and they both slowly got to their feet, Ducky keeping Tony turned away from the couch. “Mr. Palmer says it’s a suicide. She was dead when you arrived.”_ _

__In slow motion Tony raised dull eyes to meet Ducky’s eyes. “It’s my fault.” He whispered. “It’s my fault.”_ _

__“No Anthony it wasn’t. She killed herself. It’s not your fault.” Ducky repeated trying to move Tony out of the room without being obvious._ _

__“It’s my fault.” Tony shook his head stubbornly, eyes darting to the body on the couch, partially obstructed by Palmer. He couldn’t leave while she was still there._ _

__“Anthony, come over here and sit down. Let’s give Mr. Palmer some room to work.”  
He pushed Tony hard to get him to move, but eventually he was able to get Tony over to a chair facing away from the couch and got him seated_ _

__“It’s not your fault Anthony.” Ducky exchanged glances with Palmer. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”_ _

__“My fault. Her blood is on my hands.” Lifting his hands to look at them, Tony’s eyes widened impossibly at the sight of clean hands. Then he started laughing, hysterically. “Her blood is on my hands. Her blood is on my hands. See Ducky, her blood is on my hands.” He held his hands out to Ducky who took them closing them between his own. “Your hands are clean Anthony. There’s no blood on them.”_ _

__Tony shook his head pulling his hands away and started rubbing his palms roughly up and down his thighs._ _

__“Anthony, stop it!” Ducky tried to get through to Tony while McGee stood watching open-mouthed from the doorway. After a few moments Tony stopped and held his palms up bending over to study them carefully._ _

__“Doesn’t come off, I’ve tried. Believe me I’ve tried.”_ _

__“What happened here Timothy?” Ducky rose up to look at McGee in the doorway._ _

__“She’s dead because of me.” Tony said in a dull voice and nodded his head backwards toward the couch._ _

__“No Anthony, you’re wrong.” Ducky rubbed his hand up and down Tony’s arm. “You’re in shock.”_ _

__“It’s my fault she killed herself.” Tony said brokenly letting his hands fall to his lap, not quite meeting Ducky’s eyes and ignoring McGee altogether. “I—“_ _

__“No, Anthony no.” Ducky sighed in exasperation and said forcefully. “This is not your fault.”_ _

__“Yes, it is.” Tony nodded with unfocused eyes. “Senior said so.” Tony spoke earnestly, trying to make them see._ _

__

__~oOo~_ _


	2. Time Don’t Matter to Me

oOo

 

By 8:30 Ziva and McGee were exchanging frowns and grimaces over Tony’s empty desk. Tired of looking at the file on her desk Ziva flounced over to McGee’s desk and hissed at him. “Where is Tony? Did you call him?”

“Yes. It went to voicemail.” McGee blinked nervously but typed steadily keeping his eyes on his computer. “Tony’s a big boy. He said he was fine and I believed him.”

“McGee.” Ziva stepped back and stared at him speculatively. “Just what happened yesterday… at the scene—with Lieutenant Masters?” A faint smile flashed across her face and she pressed further. She’d known something had gone down when she’d got a good look at McGee’s face and heard his stammering excuses on why Tony hadn’t come back to the office. “It was a straight-down suicide, yes?” Without waiting for answer, she leaned over his shoulder and whispered in his ear. “What has happened to Tony? Did he—“ Ziva was unprepared when McGee shot out of his desk and knocked her backwards.

“Up! Straight-up Ziva!” Shaking his head at her predatory smile, McGee turned away calling over his shoulder. “Sorry!” He ran for the stairs. “I’ve… um got to … um talk to Ducky.” She stood staring after him narrowing her eyes until they were slits before whirling around to call Abby. If there was something going on with Tony, Abby would know.

oOo

“Ducky!” McGee burst through the doors as soon as they whooshed open. “Ducky!”

Both Palmer and Ducky were bent over something—someone—laid out on the table, gloved hands bloody and McGee resolutely kept his eyes on Ducky’s face. He rarely came down here and never when they were … working. 

Palmer looked up curiously, but Ducky never paused in his story and McGee came to a halt beside him, breathing heavily. “Ducky!”

With a sigh, Ducky handed the liver to Mr. Palmer and turned to McGee in annoyance. “What is it Timothy? I have far too much work left to be answering questions.”

“Ducky… Ducky, Tony hasn’t come in yet.” McGee said in a rush, anxious eyes carefully kept off Palmer and his hands. “He said he was fine and I know he wasn’t fine, but he wouldn’t let me stay and I—” 

“Calm yourself Timothy. Take a breath and start over.” Ducky frowned and pulled the gloves off, tossing them neatly in the trash. “I understand Anthony isn’t here yet. And?”

“Ducky, he…” McGee took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He wasn’t acting like himself.”

“Naturally not. He’d no doubt be embarrassed when he passed out at the scene yesterday. He wouldn’t want you to fuss over him.”

“You mean his freak-out Dr. Mallard.” Palmer grinned from the scale. “He just fainted dead away.”

“Ducky, you’ve got to—“ McGee pleaded. “Gibbs isn’t here and I—“ 

“The least said on that subject the better Mr. Palmer.” Ducky reprimanded Palmer with a quick glance. “I found no physical trauma. Anthony was physically fine when I sent him home to rest.”

“He uh.” McGee stammered looking around for something to rest his eyes on besides Ducky. “I…”

“You did take Anthony home, Timothy?” Ducky frowned in concern and tried to catch McGee’s eye. “You saw him inside and made sure he had something to eat?”

“He uh, Ducky…” McGee swallowed and wished for the thousandth time Gibbs was here. “He said he was fine. Wouldn’t let me come up. He said…” McGee swallowed again. “Anyway he hasn’t called or anything Ducky and he’s not answering his phone. What should I do?”

“Oh Timothy.” McGee cringed under the weight of Ducky’s disappointment. “You know Anthony only says he’s fine when he’s most certainly NOT fine.” Ducky thought a moment and then started pulling at the blood smeared gown he wore. “Do you have a key to his apartment? I’m not up to Jethro’s lock picking skills.”

Grateful for something to do, McGee started digging in his pockets. “No.” Ducky stopped him with a gesture. “You’re coming with me. Mr. Palmer, please finish here and …” He stopped and made sure Palmer was looking at him before continuing. “Not a word to anyone, especially Abigail about yesterdays’ events. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir, Dr. Mallard.” Palmer nodded. “But what am I supposed to say when she asks where Tony is?” And more importantly, he thought, where you and McGee have gone.

“You tell her McGee and I are going to ascertain the situation and only if she asks. Under no circumstances is she to leave NCIS.” Ducky grunted when Palmer nodded and slipped his suit coat on and bustled McGee out the door.

Palmer bent over the body and considered the wisdom of locking the doors against Abby when both Abby and Ziva burst through the door wearing twin expressions promising him a slow death if he didn’t talk. “No.” He said with wide eyes knowing there was no escape.

“McGee and Ducky went to see about Tony!” He offered hoping that would be enough to keep him alive.

Ziva gave him a feral smile and looked over Ducky’s desk, picking up a paperclip and twisted it open. “You know, Palmer.” Her smile widened and she grinned at Abby who stood impatiently, arms crossed over her chest. “My skills are getting rusty. I never get to kill anyone anymore and Gibbs won’t let me … _interrogate_ a suspect unless he’s there to stop me from having any fun.”

Palmer whimpered and dropped the scalpel on the floor. “Tonyfaintedatthescene.” Backing away from Ziva, he tried to keep the table between them.

“What?” Abby tried to work it out. “Tony fainted?” Her mouth flattened. “That’s not nice little gremlin. Tony doesn’t faint.” 

“I agree. Tony has never fainted, yes?” Ziva asked Abby. 

“No. Never.” Abby shook her head decisively. “Now try the truth Palmer.” Abby and Ziva walked around either side of the table and corned Palmer between them.

Gulping loudly, he nodded frantically. “It’s true! Tony collapsed right in front of me! Even Ducky couldn’t find anything wrong, but sent him home with McGee anyway. I mean… he sent McGee to take—“ Abby punched him in the shoulder.

“A collapse isn’t a faint.” Abby twisted her lips. “Something’s wrong with Tony.”  
She turned to Ziva and nodded. 

“And McGee took him home.” Ziva frowned. “We need—“

“We need to go check on Tony.” Abby decided starting for the door.

“Wait!” Palmer cried out, cringing when they both turned glares on him. “Dr. Mallard said absolutely…. um… absolutely not. You have to stay here.” His voice faded to a whisper when they took a step in tandem toward him.

“Please.” Palmer squeaked. “Dr. Mallard was quite….”

“Fine!” Abby snarled in a voice that said it was far from fine. “Let’s go wait for them in the parking garage and I’ll call McGee.” With a last glare at Palmer, they left autopsy and Palmer breathed a sigh of relief and prayed for Gibbs swift return.

oOo

 

Ducky rang the bell three times without a response before standing back and letting McGee unlock the door. “Anthony?” Ducky called from the tiny foyer. “It’s just me. And Timothy. Are you awake?” Walking slowly into the living room they both spotted Tony at the same time.

Tony was lying on the couch, still in yesterday’s wrinkled suit and Italian leather shoes. His face was grey and his feet were pulled up and he was shivering despite the grey angora throw folded on the back of the couch. He blinked at them with dull eyes and didn’t move.

“Oh Anthony.” Ducky sighed and realizing the glass coffee table probably wouldn’t hold his weight, pushed it aside and bent over Tony, laying a comforting hand on his forehead to check for a fever. “Did you sleep here my boy?” Finding none, he took Tony’s hand to check his pulse. “How do you feel today? Did you eat anything Anthony? Last night or today?” Getting nothing more than a stare and a slight shrug, Ducky sighed again. “Timothy, help me to sit him up.” Both men pulled awkwardly at Tony until he was sitting on the couch staring at his hands. “Anthony, I need you to tell me what’s wrong.” Ducky said keeping his hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“Who are you?” Tony finally said in a voice so low and hoarse they barely recognized it. “Do I know you?” His face crunched up and Ducky couldn’t bear the bleakness dulling Tony’s eyes. 

“Anthony!” Ducky gasped and turned Tony’s head to look at him. “You know very well who I am. It’s Ducky.”

Empty eyes examined his face incuriously. “Okay.” Tony turned his head back to stare at the floor. “It’s my fault.” 

No it isn’t.” Ducky stood up and then sat on the coffee table facing Tony forgetting it didn’t look very sturdy. “We discussed this yesterday. What happened is in no way your fault.” McGee nodded, but no one was looking at him.

“Oh yes, it was.” Tony nodded earnestly. _“Senior said so.”_ Tony let his gaze drop as if it was too heavy and too hard to keep his head up. There was only goodness and honesty and faithfulness in those eyes, no place for one Anthony DiNozzo, Junior. A smile ghosted across his lips and Ducky caught the edge of it out of the corner of his eye when he turned back after exchanging a glance with McGee.

_Anthony DiNozzo,_ he’d whispered the name aloud after digging through his pockets for identification last night. He was Anthony DiNozzo. If he was Junior that meant there must be a Sen-…. Tony clapped both hands over his ears. _No, don’t think about him, not now not ever._

“Anthony, I’ve met your father and I believe he’s one of those unfortunate people who are a born liar. He can no more resist dissembling than he can breathing. It was very reprehensible to say any such thing to you—especially at such a sensitive moment. I assume you were roughly the same age as the Masters boy when you uh… found your mother?” Ducky looked around at Tony’s living room at the DVDs piled everywhere, but beyond a cabinet along one wall and the sofa there wasn’t much else besides the giant TV hogging most of one wall. He could only see partway into the kitchen – bare countertop with two tall wrought iron tools tucked under. “Are you hungry? Did you eat last night?” He asked again without hoping for an answer. This was much worse than he’d originally surmised. He gestured for McGee to check the kitchen. “Find something for Anthony to eat.” He said as an aside, not taking his eyes from Tony’s listless face.

“Why would he lie? She was right there. I …” Tony shuddered and drifted off turning to watch McGee disappear into the kitchen. They heard the refrigerator jerk open and McGee mumbled under his breath. “Who’s that?” He whispered loudly staring after McGee. “Why is he in my kitchen?” If he was Junior, then Sen— _he_ must be his father. That meant the nightmares, the voices must be true. 

“It’s empty Ducky. There’s nothing here.” The door slammed shut and cabinet doors started opening and shutting in rapid succession. After a moment McGee appeared in the doorway and looked indecisively between Tony and Ducky. “I can’t even find a slice of bread.” Ducky heard the disbelief in McGee’s voice and frowned at the total lack of curiosity in Tony’s face. It was like he’d forgotten McGee in moments.

“You know perfectly well who that is.” Ducky chided trying to hide the fear he was starting to feel. “You work with Timothy McGee every day.” Tony looked from him to McGee blankly. “He’s your…your Probie.” Ducky said desperately hoping for some recognition and finding none in Tony’s eyes.

“Hey Tony.” McGee crouched down in front of Tony and put a hand on his knee. “I brought you home yesterday, remember?” McGee’s eyes were wide and frightened. “After …” He swallowed heavily and looked down. “… after we left the um, crime scene.”

“Okay.” Tony nodded. _Timothy McGee, aka Probie._ He whispered it softly so he wouldn’t forget. “Probie.”

“Come on.” Making up his mind, Ducky stood and they both pulled at his arms to get him to stand up. Once Tony was standing, Ducky pulled his suit coat off and folded it over the back of the chair. “You need to take a shower and change. McGee, go find him something, anything. Coffee if nothing else.” McGee sighed and disappeared back into the tiny kitchen.

Once Ducky got Tony moving, he was able to get him into the bathroom and start the water. “Do I need to undress you and put you in the shower?” He left the room when Tony shook his head and went into the bedroom to find something comfortable for Tony to wear. He wasn’t going to manhandle Tony into one of those fancy suits today. Searching through several drawers in the low dresser, he finally found jeans and a grey wool sweater. Tee-shirt, socks and boxers under his arm he went back down the hall and knocked on the bathroom door.

“Anthony?” He knocked again when there was no answer. “I’ve put you something to wear on the bed.” Pushing the door open slightly he saw the outline of Tony behind the shower curtain. “Put these on when you get out.” Ducky reached in and laid the clothes on the counter and shut the door behind him.

Back in the kitchen, McGee had started a pot of coffee. At least he had that much, Ducky thought, opening the refrigerator and frowning at the empty shelves. A lone jar of mustard crowded up against a can of beer on the top shelf.

“Ducky, what’s wrong with him?” McGee muttered under his breath. “Why doesn’t he know who we are?”

“I’m not certain.” Ducky answered in a normal voice. “I think something so terrible has happened that Anthony’s mind shut down and he doesn’t want to remember, so his mind has obligingly forgotten.”

“But…” McGee juggled three coffee mugs, almost dropping them all. “… Ducky he’s forgotten who we are.”

“Apparently his mind figured it was best to wipe the slate clean.” Ducky took his glasses off and wiped them on his shirt. “Don’t worry, Timothy, he’s not acting frightened like a normal amnesia victim. I’m sure once a bit of time goes by his memory will be fine, perhaps a bit spotty, but not… gone.” Peering at the lenses, Ducky nodded and placed the glasses back on. “I’m sure Anthony will be fine.” Ducky gave McGee a small smile and turned away, hiding the look of despair on his face. “We’ll get him all the help he needs.”

“But Ducky—“ McGee protested.

“Not now Timothy.” Ducky interrupted. “Just when is Jethro due back?”

“Not sure.” McGee shrugged. “When they get the job done, I guess.”

“I’ll call him myself.” Ducky nodded. “Anthony has always responded to him best.”

By the time the coffee was done and McGee had filled two cups, Tony appeared dressed, with slightly damp hair.

“Here you go my boy.” Ducky held out a cup with a gentle smile. “McGee couldn’t find any creamer.” Ducky said apologetically, and waited until Tony took the cup before nodding brightly.

Tony took the cup and stared at it. With a sigh he opened a cupboard and dragged out a clear canister of sugar, barely able to hold it with one hand. Tipping it edgewise, he let some slide into his cup. Ducky held his breath until he stopped before it overflowed and Tony put the canister back without bothering to shut the door. Stirring it slightly with one finger, Tony then sucked on his finger and glanced at Ducky.

“You feel good enough to go into work?” Ducky asked solicitously. He had no intention of letting Tony do any actual _work,_ he was taking the boy straight down to autopsy for an evaluation. It was either that or Bethesda Pysch ward and he wanted to avoid that if possible. “Anthony?” 

“Guess so.” Tony shrugged. “If you think I won’t screw up again.” His face was almost slack but Ducky thought he saw a flicker of something in his eyes. 

“Everyone makes a mistake sooner or later.” Ducky shrugged and realized Tony had yet to take the first sip. “Do you care to take that with you?” He gestured to the cup still sitting on the counter. “We can stop and get some donuts or bagels if you like.”

“Don’t you want to comb your hair Tony?” McGee asked out of the blue and Tony turned his head to study the younger man.

_Probie, he was Probie,_ Tony reminded himself and lifted a hand halfway to his head and let it drop. _And the older one was… was… Ducky. Funny name for someone._ He shrugged and stared at the cup of coffee in surprise, a tiny frown between his eyes. He shook his head and walked into the living room and picked up his Nike’s by the front door. Sitting down on the couch he slipped them on and tied the laces with clumsy fingers.

Ducky and McGee followed him out and stood by the door waiting. “Got your keys?” Ducky asked when Tony stood up and walked toward them. Looking around absently Tony shrugged. “Phone?” Another shrug and a glance at McGee who took a deep breath and walked back down the hallway trying his best not to stomp. Tony’s keys and phone were still in yesterday’s pants pocket, lying on the floor where Tony had stepped out of them. Shaking his head, McGee threw them over the side of the bed. Tony would have a fit later at all the wrinkles in one of his fancy suits.

Glancing at Tony’s phone, he saw ten missed messages, three of them his own. What had he been thinking leaving Tony alone yesterday? There was something terribly wrong with him.

“Here.” McGee held out the phone and keys and waited until Tony looked at him, then looked at his hand and finally took them careful not to touch McGee’s hand, shoving them in his jeans pocket without even glancing at the phone for messages. 

oOo


	3. There’s No Place I Wanna Be

oOo

 

Turning his eyes away from Ziva and Abby circling his desk, asking question after question, Tony concentrated on ignoring them. _Ziva and Abby._ Probie had quietly named them when they got out of the elevator and herded Tony to his desk. _His desk._ He had a desk. That cool Mighty Mouse stapler was his. Maybe that meant he was a cool guy? He worked here. _With Ducky and Problie and Ziva and Abby and maybe other people too._ With quick glances under his lashes, Tony could see they were plainly annoyed at being ignored. They made him nervous, exchanging glances with each other and pacing in front of him until Probie— _Timothy McGee_ cleared his throat to intervene. Tony threw him a grateful look when he stood and stepped between the two women, stopping the pacing. Turning snarling glances on him, they refocused and prepared to dissect Probie. 

“Guys leave Tony alone. He he’s … he … he’s…” Tony smiled tentatively when Probie looked at him again and went on in a lower voice. “He’s having a bad day, so just … leave him alone for now okay?” Tony could see he was pleading with them to see reason and they weren’t having it. Twisting hands together in his lap, Tony dropped his eyes to the desktop and kept them there.

“Why is he having a bad day?” That was Abby, he peeked up. Yes, the tall gothy-looking one in boots and was that a … collar? “What happened to Tony yesterday?”

“Tony fainted at a crime scene!” _Ziva._ Tony glanced sideways. Ziva was the one who was playing with a knife of all things. Tony shuddered and saw her huff and look defensive when Probie and Abby both glared at her. “What? We caterpillared it out of Palmer. Do not try and play innocent now Abby. You were there too.” 

“Wormed.” Tony said softly. _Ducky and Probie and Ziva and Abby._

“What?” All three turned to him and spoke at once. Tony ducked his head down lower and clenched his hands together tightly. _Ducky and Probie and Ziva and Abby!_ He screamed in his head over and over.

“See, there is nothing wrong with him.” Ziva declared and went back to her own desk. “We have work to do McGee. These cold cases must be solved before Gibbs returns. He—“

“Talk to me Tony.” Abby sat on the corner of his desk and tried to catch his attention but Tony ignored her. “Tell Abby what’s wrong.” He kept a close eye on her hands, they seemed to have a life of their own, always moving, ready to reach for him.

“Abby.” Probie sighed and Tony inched away from her as far as he could without falling out of the chair. “Let Tony tell you when he feels better.”

“McGee, stop trying to boss me around.” Abby huffed. “I’m talking to Tony.”

“Okay. You know what? There’s something wrong and badgering Tony isn’t helping.” McGee threw up his hands and went back to his own desk. Tony looked up in surprise, Probie should have his six, not just … abandon him like that.

He looked up at Abby when she pulled a sheet of paper from her pocket and waved it in his face. Unfolding it and pressing out the folds she slapped it on the desk in front of him. Clasping his hands tighter together to stop the shaking, he forced himself to stare at the blank computer screen and didn’t give any indication he’d seen the paper. “The nuns are bowling for dollars this weekend Tony. Can you fill in the sign-up sheet? You can bring it down to me in the lab.” She waited a moment and slid off his desk. “Or I can pick it up later.” 

With a hissed ‘watch him McGee’ she skipped off toward the stairs. Taking a quick look around, Tony stared in disbelief when no one else bothered to give her a second glance. What kind of place was this?

Hearing McGee sigh deeply, Tony looked over only to catch him sending a text. In a few minutes his phone beeped with an answer. McGee frowned and glanced around. “Fifteen minutes? Ziva could kill us both and hide the bodies in fifteen minutes.” Tony heard him whisper and his eyes widened. Ziva could kill them and they let her work here? Turning back to Probie, Tony saw him give up any attempt to look at the file and sat back. Their eyes met for a moment before Tony dropped his and saw the paper in front of him. He picked it up and read it, not really understanding a word. 

Slowly and methodically, Tony tore the paper into tiny little pieces and piled them on his desk. He worked carefully making sure each piece was no bigger than a quarter inch square. When the elevator dinged, his arm jerked and several pieces fluttered to the floor and he leaned over to pick them up one by one to put back with the others littering his desk. When he was finished and there was nothing else, Tony scraped the pieces into his palm with the edge of his other hand. Closing his fist tightly over the mess, he transferred it to his jacket pocket and made sure they were deep enough to stay put when he moved. Doing his best to ignore the eyes he felt piercing his skin, poking and prying where they had no business, Tony sat quietly with his eyes focused on the screen and sometimes he remembered to nudge the mouse a bit when the screen went into sleep mode so people would think he was busy and leave him alone while he was being useful.

His phone started ringing before he was finished, but Tony never hesitated or jumped. 

“Your phone is ringing.” Ziva impatiently pointed out when Tony ignored it the second time. “Tony? Your phone?” She surged out of her seat taking a step towards him and Tony tried to make himself smaller. “Tony! Please tell me what is wrong? Why are you not answering your phone? Are you sick?”

“Ziva.” Tony looked up when Probie stood and motioned Tony to follow him. “Leave Tony alone.” He watched Probie walk to his desk and stop. “C’mon Tony. It’s time to go see Ducky.” _Ducky—Dr. Mallard. Ducky and Probie and Ziva and Abby_. Tony stood and followed Probie silently, glancing around after checking to make sure no one was looking.

 

oOo

Ducky examined Anthony and decided his actions and memory losses were painting a very unpleasant picture. It wasn’t actually depression or a cognitive dissonance exactly, but Anthony seemed to believe that he was responsible for his mother’s suicide. Whatever happened, something at the scene at Lieutenant Masters’ home yesterday triggered it and Ducky didn’t feel qualified to diagnose or treat the problem. With a sigh he knew he was going to have to take Anthony to Bethesda and get him some professional help. He wished Jethro was here. 

“You’re too quiet Anthony, my boy.” Ducky shook his head fretfully. “It’s not like you at all. There’s something…something in your eyes…I …” Ducky leaned forward, one hand on the table for balance and peered down at Tony’s bent head. “Are you … Can you be holding the screams inside?” His voice was so soft and gentle, it burned into Tony’s brain and the sudden silence shocked Tony back to reality for a moment. 

Making a strangled noise, Tony’s eyes snapped up in shock to meet Ducky’s mild glance that saw more than it should. “Ducky?” McGee said quietly from the door. Tony jerked his head around in surprise. 

“Gibbs should be here.” McGee said softly watching Tony stare down at his hands as if he didn’t know what to do with them, as if perhaps they belonged to someone else. Gibbs? Had he met a Gibbs? _Ducky and Probie and Ziva and Abby. No. No Gibbs._

“… see I was right. Anthony.” Ducky paused for a breath realizing Anthony hadn’t heard anything he’d said. “… are you listening my boy?” Ducky put a hand on his shoulder and ignored the way Tony’s head twisted to stare at it. Ducky let the concern in his eyes show as Tony jerked his shoulder away, rolling his chair a foot or so back with one foot until he was out of reach. “Anthony?” Ducky sighed and stepped back, sitting on a stool, tucking his feet on the bottom rung. “I won’t hurt you my boy, you do understand that right?”

“Wanna go home.” Tony mumbled staring at his hands again, turning them over to look at his palms. Ducky wondered if he remembered what he’d raved about yesterday, about having blood on them that wouldn’t wash off. He put a comforting hand on Tony’s shoulder and refused to pull away when the younger man flinched.

“I think we need to take you to Bethesda. Timothy, get a car.” Ducky went to get his light trench coat from the stand and hang up his lab coat. “Come along Anthony.” He used a no nonsense tone that usually worked.

“Wanna go home.” Tony repeated slowly and carefully so Ducky would understand.

“There’s no one at your apartment that can help you Anthony. We’re going to get you some help.” He said sadly, helping Tony to stand. Taking his arm, Ducky walked slowly beside Tony out of autopsy and down to the garage.

“Don’t need help.” Tony said as they stood waiting for the car. “Too late for that.”  
Ducky sighed and watched as Tony got slowly in the car. 

“Want me to call Gibbs again?” McGee watched Tony in the rear view mirror and talked softly to Ducky. 

“No, Timothy. I’ll try Jethro myself. They should be back on the base by now. He’ll want to come back and check on Anthony.”

“I’m not sure what Gibbs can do.” McGee drove slowly and methodically, with one eye on Tony. “But he’s always been able to control Tony before.”

“Gibbs?” Tony asked from the backseat. _Who was Gibbs?_ “Is he my doctor?” 

“No, Anthony.” Ducky laughed. “Jethro Gibbs, your boss. He’s also your good friend. I’m your doctor.”

“Oh Okay.” Tony leaned back and went to staring back out the window. _If he was such a good friend, wouldn’t he be here?_

oOo


	4. I got heartaches in my pocket

oOo

 

It took Gibbs two days to return Ducky’s call and insist he’d listened to all of the increasingly annoyed voicemails but couldn’t take the time to answer. After Ducky calmed down he given Gibbs some farfetched story about some idiot psychiatrist at that place where they were keeping Tony actually tried to give him a Rorschach test. Ducky slapped the file down against the metal table in an uncharacteristic show of temper.

_“What did DiNozzo say?”_ Ducky sighed and rubbed his eyes when he heard the defeated tone in Gibbs’ voice. He just wasn’t listening. _“I bet he came up with a dozen movie references.”_

Ducky raised his head in impatience and glanced around autopsy, making sure Mr. Palmer hadn’t snuck in when he wasn’t looking. “He said.” Ducky pronounced the words heavily. “That if you painted it red, it would look just like his mother’s blood soaked into the white carpet of their Cape Cod cottage.” Ducky shook his head trying to rein in his annoyance. “I know you think Anthony is just playing some kind of game Jethro, or maybe you’re afraid to look at the truth…but either way, Anthony is in trouble and I’m not sure we can save him this time.”

_“Duck, come on.”_ Gibbs put his hand over the phone and Ducky heard muffled voices for a minute or two. _“This is DiNozzo we’re talking about here. Nothing gets to him.”_

“Jethro, Anthony has suffered some kind of break with reality. I told you all this in the dozen messages I’ve left for you. Did you even listen to them?” He let the irritation show in his voice. “Anthony is in serious trouble. I’ve had to sign him into Bethesda. In the Psych section no less. You must return immediately. He’ll listen to you.” _I hope._ Ducky added to himself.

Grimacing at the taste of cold tea, Ducky sat cup and saucer back on his desk. “You haven’t seen him Jethro.” Ducky sighed. “Come and visit Anthony and then we’ll talk again.” 

_“Yeah, Duck, about that…”_

“Anthony is in trouble and he needs us. He needs you, Jethro. Come home before it’s too late.” Ducky ended the call before Gibbs could argue anymore and slid his phone into the pocket of his lab coat. He would go and visit Anthony after dinner. Maybe he could take a book for him to read. The days must be impossibly long, locked in a room with only one tiny window.

 

oOo

 

“Visit him Jethro.” Ducky implored. “And tell me if you recognize our Anthony.” He’d only been back a few hours before Ducky started nagging at him. He half-figured DiNozzo was hiding because of the fucking mess they’d left him. As senior agent, he should’ve known better, but that was DiNozzo for you. All McGee could do was stutter out explanations that didn’t make sense, but at least he didn’t try to place all the blame on DiNozzo. Ziva was unusually silent, watching him carefully. 

Abby? Abby was a basket case. Unable to concentrate on her work, she kept hugging him and begging him to go see her Tony-bear.

Gibbs shook off the feeling of dread and walked on, letting the doors close behind him. Cases were piling up and he was already down one man who may or may not be faking it to get out of another Sexual Harassment Seminar. Maybe this weekend he’d have time to visit DiNozzo until then he had work to do and messes to straighten out.

He decided to stop by Abby’s lab and see if she had the ballistics done yet on that Petty Officer case they’d been asked to review by SecNav. Narrowing his eyes, Gibbs hoped she was done and he could get the Jag lawyers off his back. Didn’t any of them understand he had work to do?

Stopping a moment to calm his thoughts, he watched Abby jam to ear splitting rock music before going into the lab. Abby was always able to bring a smile to his face. She did her best and never made mistakes. Why couldn’t they all be like Abby?

Twisting and turning she noticed him in the doorway and a smile lit up her face. “Gibbs! Gibbs!” She shouted ripping off the headphones and he wondered why she had the music blaring and headphones on, but she was tugging on his arm, pulling him in. “No Caf-POW?” She asked, hands on hips. “Why are you even here Gibbs? I don’t have anything for you.”

“Abs.” Gibbs looked at the screens, hoping to see one with the picture of the Jag evidence.

“OH! OH! I know. You came to talk about Tony, right?” She danced around circling Gibbs. “Gibbs he’s so broken. It’s just like Michael Corelone.”

“Abs? Who’s Michael Corelone?” Gibbs frowned when he didn’t see anything like a bullet on any screen. “Is he the suspect?”

“Gibbs!” Abby cried, both hands coming up to express her disappointment. “Michael Corelone? Godfather III? Gibbs! Surely even you must’ve seen Godfather III?” Abby bounced up on her toes and made a face. “Michael Coreone was wracked with guilt for the bad things he'd done –”

“Abs.” Gibbs held up a hand to stop her. “Just because DiNozzo isn’t here, doesn’t mean you can start in with the movie references. Talk to me about Jag’s ballistics test.”

“But Gibbs.” She pouted and flounced a step back.

“Abs.” He said in a serious voice. “Ballistics.”

She stilled and stared at him with her head tilted, one pig-tail hanging down farther than the other. “You haven’t been to see Tony have you?”

“Abs.” He actually growled.

“He’s been there for nine days and you… Gibbs I don’t believe you. Tony is … is lost and you haven’t even gone to see him.” She shook her head sadly and he turned on his heel and walked out.

“Call me when you get something.” He called over his shoulder heading for the elevators. “It’s not like he’s got the plague again.” Gibbs mumbled under his breath. “He’s not going to die or anything.”

“LOST Gibbs!” Abby leaned out her door and shouted after him. “Tony-bear is Lost!”

He waved a hand behind him dismissing her and stepped into the elevator, jabbing the wrong button in a rush to get out of there. He’d see DiNozzo this weekend and put an end to this impromptu vacation. DiNozzo would be back at work Monday morning and that was final.

 

oOo


	5. I got echoes in my head

oOo

Standing on tiptoe, atop his bed Tony was able to see out of the long, narrow window set just under the ceiling. He stood there a long time, watching the rain wash the color out of the world turning everything grey and misty. Tracing fingertips down the glass with sliding raindrops, he wondered if he went outside, would it wash him clean as well. He couldn’t remember much, but he knew there was a dark stain on his soul that like the blood on his hands, would never be washed clean. With an impatient swipe of fingers, the tears were gone before more could follow. Neither tears nor rain could cleanse him. 

He caught the next one on a fingertip and stared at it curiously, letting it slide down his finger. It crossed his palm and he clenched his fist in surprise. Just for a brief moment, the tear had erased the blood but it would take a lake of tears to clean his hands and how would he get the tears to his heart and mind and soul? There was no way. No way back.

He couldn’t remember exactly what happened or what caused it or even when… but he knew he deserved it and that was enough. A restored memory – the details of his iniquity might send him completely over the edge into the abyss and no matter what the Doctor or Ducky _(Ducky, Probie, Ziva and Abby)_ said, he was going to do everything in his power to keep his memories from surfacing. The dreams were bad enough.

But even the knowledge that such memories existed sent his mind chewing and gnawing at the edges, sharp teeth ripping at threads, pulling apart his carefully constructed shield. With the last of his strength, Tony wrestled those thoughts away and locked them into a deep box in the darkest corner. Other memories were just as important, some more so and some not. If he had to remember something, let it be … how about his sixth grade teacher? Everyone had one, even Anthony DiNozzo Junior. Surely there was something memorable about her or him as it were. The sound of distant thunder shook his thoughts and Tony sighed in despair or defeat. He wasn’t sure anymore which had control of him or if it even made any difference.

His eyes lost focus on the outside world and turned inward. Tony slid down the wall and huddled on the bed ignoring the ticking clock on the wall. Soon another Doctor would come and try to crack open his mind with a smattering of tricks and key words to get at the meat of his memories. It couldn’t be allowed. He didn’t want to end his days here in this small place of white on white with occasional flashes of grey. He may as well be outside in the rain. 

When the Doctor finally came, it was after yet another breakfast Tony merely picked at. Nothing tasted good so why bother? He was learning to yearn for the heavy silences, finding a reluctant peace between words that would have shocked him before. He frowned suddenly as an unbidden memory of himself burst forth. It was like trying to hold light in your fist, something always leaked out when you were least aware.

In a moment of blinding clarity, Tony realized the truth and it took his breath away. It wasn’t just that everyone left him eventually, that was still true, but if they didn’t leave on their own, being around Tony got them killed. It was that realization that forced him to interrupt the doctor and tell him to put Abby and Ziva and Probie on his no-visit list. They’d been nice to him and if he’d worked with them for years, well the odds were running out. “And anyone else, just in case.” Ducky would come no matter what, he’d made that perfectly clear. 

“I’ve just realized the truth Doctor, had an epiphany if you will. I admit the shock of it sent me spinning for awhile but I’m fine now.”

“Tony we were discussing the gaps in your memory.” The Doctor looked up from his notes. “You’re suppressing all memories so you don’t have to remember something traumatic. _That’s_ the one we need to get at before you can begin to heal.” The Doctor gave him a toothy smile and Tony wondered what his name was or if he’d ever offered it. Shouldn’t Doctors have to wear a name tags or something?

“Well we can’t _get at it…”_ Tony made quotes in the air. “… if I can’t remember it, now can we.” In the time he’d been here, he’d learned to fake his way through most sessions, so they’d leave him alone and he could concentrate on the nightmares in his head. He was remembering more and more and it scared the shit out of him. He knew the answer was in there somewhere and he wanted to make sure it stayed buried deep.

Some days he bantered with them, answering their questions with totally unrelated things until they grew impatient and left. Other days he’d sit silently on his bed, ignoring them all. He was pretty sure there were several different ones.

Then there was the day he’d had a bad reaction to some anti-depression medication and had spent most of the time kneeling over the toilet praying he would die soon. He wasn’t depressed anyway. He just didn’t want to remember everything or do anything. That wasn’t depression, that was survival.

“… about this epiphany?” Tony looked up and realized the Doctor was still talking.

“Um… sorry. What?” 

“You said you had an epiphany?” The Doctor clenched his pen tighter, crossing his legs and Tony blinked at him. 

“Oh. That.” Tony shrugged. “It’s my fault.”

“You keep saying that, but you never explain exactly what it is that’s your fault.”

Tony shrugged and lifted his hands. “I don’t know.” Rubbing his eyes till he saw spots, Tony lied and slumped against the wall. He was sitting on the bed while the Doctor sat in the single white wooden chair these luxurious accommodations offered. “I think someone died. All that blood …” He trailed off, remembering the ink blot test thing they’d given him the first day and shuddered. Only it was the wrong color. Blood was red, not black. Surely they had a color printer here somewhere. 

The Doctor flipped through the file and stopped now and then to read something. “You’re a federal agent. I assume you’ve had to kill people on the job.” He looked up at Tony and pushed thick, black glasses back up with one fat finger.

“I… I want to rest now.” _I’ve killed people? It’s my job to kill people?_ Tony rubbed his eyes again. No wonder they locked him up. He deserved it.

“Alright.” The Doctor stood and closed the folder. “We’ll talk more later.” He turned toward the door and stopped. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He turned back and pulled a paper from his pocket. “A Jethro Gibbs called and wants to visit you tomorrow.” He read the name and looked up at Tony. “Will you allow it?”

_Jethro Gibbs?_ Why was that name familiar? Oh right, Ducky mentioned him the day he’d brought him here. He shrugged. _His boss._ “If he shows up, I guess it’s okay.” Tony turned and laid down facing the wall. After a moment he heard the door close behind the Doctor and he closed his eyes. The nightmares were never far away.

oOo

 

Saturday mornings were for chores and errands, Gibbs thought, not having to pry his Senior Agent out of a pretend funk and chew his ass out for the mess he’d left. At least it was raining and he couldn’t work outside if he wanted to. Gibbs finished his third cup of coffee and unable to find anything else to delay him, sighed and put on his jacket. Damn DiNozzo for ruining a perfectly good day off, his first one in over a month.

The umbrella wasn’t in the truck where it was supposed to be so he ended up soaked to the skin after a fruitless search for a parking space anywhere close to the entrance. A harried looking receptionist frowned at his grumbling tone and pursed her lips at him. Gibbs laughed for the first time he could remember, like a pinched-face nurse could intimidate him.

Carrying his dripping jacket, Gibbs stepped off the elevator on the Psych floor and was greeted by a stern nurse who asked all kind of impertinent questions before calling the Doctor and confirming he was Tony’s next of kin before finally escorting him to one of many numbered doors down a long hallway and unlocking it swiftly. Before letting go of the handle, she turned to look at him. “Try not to look too surprised. Agent DiNozzo has … changed quite a bit since he arrived almost two weeks ago.” At his raised eyebrow she went on. “I checked the file and you haven’t been in before, so it might come as a shock. He’s lost weight and his eyes are … well there are purple smudges under them because he doesn’t sleep much. He had a bad reaction to one of the medications and well…” She paused and dropped her eyes. “Try not to let him see it bothers you, he’s had enough rejection to last a lifetime.”

“Shouldn’t the Doctor be telling me all this?” Gibbs asked starting to get alarmed. “What the hell have you done to my agent?”

She pulled herself up straight and asked if he wanted to speak to the Doctor after his visit. He nodded and she stalked away, all pretense at friendliness gone. Gibbs sighed and pushed the handle down. Bastards didn’t have to lock him in. _What the hell have you gotten yourself into now, DiNozzo?_

The lights were dimmed and Tony was curled up on the bed asleep. Gibbs was glad Tony couldn’t see the expression on his face. The nurse’s comments hadn’t prepared him for the shock he felt at the changes in DiNozzo. Even in sleep his skin was stretched tight and Gibbs hoped it was just the light, but it looked almost… grey. As he noted the changes, Gibbs saw Tony was twitching every few seconds, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. 

“Hey. DiNozzo?” Gibbs said softly hanging his jacket on the back of the chair and pulled it away from the small desk to drip quietly on the white linoleum floor. Dragging it closer to the bed, he called softly. “Wake up. Tell me what’s going on?”

Tony opened his eyes without moving and studied the man sitting in his chair. He was older than he’d expected. Didn’t look much like a Knight in Shining Armor which is what he’d expected after hearing Ducky and Probie whisper about him. More like an Avenger. Tony frowned. An Avenger would be coming for him. The innocent lives he’d taken demanded vengeance, ergo _The Avenger._ Eyes flying around the room, he doubted he could beat the man to the door even if he’d forgotten to lock it. With a sigh Tony let his muscles relax. It would be easier just to let go, easier than sorting through the nightmares for clues. Easier than chanting the names over and over so he didn’t forget. _Ducky, Probie, Abby, and Ziva. And now Jethro Gibbs—the Avenger._

“What the hell happened, DiNozzo?” Gibbs shook his head at the blank eyes staring back at him. Uncaring, empty eyes. “You look like shit.”

“Are you Jethro Gibbs?” Tony asked in a quiet voice wondering if it was worth it to sit up. If he killed him here, wouldn’t it be better to be lying down already? He paused a moment to wonder if he would use a knife or a gun. Did it matter? Not really.

“What?” Gibbs asked stupidly, leaning forward. “Stop playing games DiNozzo. You know who I am.”

“The Avenger?” Tony whispered deciding to sit up since he didn’t look like he was going to pounce on him just yet. “The Doctor said Jethro Gibbs was coming today. I assumed that was you, but if it’s not…. I apologize.” Tony ducked his head, not sure he wanted to see what was coming. He certainly didn’t want to see condemnation in those piercing blue eyes staring at him any longer.

“The Avenger? Wasn’t that some TV series? Way back in the 70s? Or maybe it was a comic book.” Gibbs frowned. Even DiNozzo couldn’t carry a joke this far without busting out in laughter. On the other hand, he was pretty good at undercover. But the weight loss alone…

Gibbs looked around and saw there was no TV or stereo. The desk had a few books in one corner and a notebook in the other. Some faded pastoral picture on one wall and a long, narrow window high above the bed. The facilities were in the back of the room, out in the open like a prison cell. Gibbs closed his eyes. _What the hell, DiNozzo._

“Are your feet cold?” Gibbs asked when it had been quiet too long. _Too quiet and still for this to be DiNozzo._ Strangely nervous when Tony just kept staring at him with those blank eyes, Gibbs stood and walked over to the desk. He picked up the book, a new crime novel by Lady Brumeier. Flipping it over to read the blurb on the back, he watched Tony out of the corner of his eye.

Tony turned his head slightly to look at his bare feet, on top of the blanket he’d rucked down earlier. Pulling his knees up to wrap his arms around them, he realized his feet were cold.

“I can bring you some warm socks.” Gibbs looked around for shoes and realized they wouldn’t let him have anything but the soft slippers shoved half under the bed.

Tony dropped his head on his knees. “Whatever.” His voice was dull and uncaring. 

Laying the book back down, Gibbs hesitated before picking up the journal and flipping through enough pages to see it was blank, except for the first page. **Ducky, Probie, Abby, and Ziva.** He read the names and glanced over at Tony. The words were written hard, nearly tearing the paper. With a sigh he sat back down and rubbed at his face. 

“I’m your boss.” Gibbs leaned over and pressed his hand on the edge of the bed. Tony stared at it in fascination and moved back slowly, one muscle at a time. “Jethro Gibbs. You’ve worked for me for almost ten years, DiNozzo. You came from Baltimore PD to work at NCIS.” Gibbs pulled his hand back and frowned when Tony relaxed. “Ring any bells?”

Tony met his eyes and shook his head slightly. Gibbs realized it had been almost a month since he’d seen DiNozzo and he needed a haircut. He wanted to reach over and brush the hair out of his eyes but knew DiNozzo would panic if the way he moved away from his hand on the edge of the bed was any indication. What the hell had he meant by asking if he was an Avenger?

“You’re my senior agent. You love movies and date lots of hot women—or so you tell us.” He chuckled and was rewarded with a curious look from DiNozzo. At least he was listening. “You’d live on pizza and beer if you could. Your father—“ Gibbs stopped when Tony cried out and immediately clapped both hands over his ears. Frightened eyes stared at Gibbs. 

“DiNozzo?” Gibbs leaned in without thinking and Tony cried out again, scrambling back down the bed back against the wall, knees pulled up. “Okay. Okay.” Gibbs held his hands up and leaned back.

Before he could say anything else, a discreet knock at the door and the nurse was telling him his time was up. He could come back this evening or tomorrow if he wished.

Gibbs stood and grabbed his jacket flinging water across the room. Not knowing what to say, he just nodded at Tony and left. He needed to talk to Ducky before seeing DiNozzo again. 

oOo

 

After Gibbs left, Tony stared out the window at the rain. Blinking back tears, his eyes shifted and he saw his reflection in the glass. With a shudder he narrowed his eyes. That guy and the guy on his driver’s license didn’t look all that much alike. Maybe he wasn’t Anthony DiNozzo Junior after all. Maybe he was someone else. The thought perked him up until he realized all these people and all these doctors wouldn’t have gotten in wrong. He sighed and dared a look at his hands.

A killer’s hands, it was proper that they were covered in blood. He was so good at it he didn’t even need a gun half the time. People stuck around him long enough and they just… died. One way or another, it was unlucky to get close to Anthony DiNozzo Junior. Maybe he should go to prison. He snorted out loud at that. They’d put him in solitary and then he’d just end up talking to himself. He snorted again when he realized he already was in a prison and talking to himself.

_Ducky, Probie, Ziva, Abby and now Jethro Gibbs—the Avenger._ Tony sighed. So many names to remember. It was too hard. He slid down and pressed his face in the pillow. He didn’t need to remember them anyway. He wasn’t getting out of here anytime soon. The Avenger would see to that. Besides, he had the nightmares for company.

Eventually the Doctor du jour would arrive, some smiling, some not, but all with the notebook and his file in hand. Sometimes he heard them murmuring outside the door, reading his file and trying to make sense of him, figuring out what to ask, wanting to be the one to find the key to his secrets and he smiled inside. None of them could see him, he was alone on a vast and barren plain making his way to … _somewhere_ — walking carefully so as not to fall in one of the bottomless cracks that riddled this place. Leaning into a wind that never stopped blowing, Tony understood he was the only living thing there, narrowing his eyes to slits while it buffeted against him as if it were attacking him.

 

oOo


	6. And all that I keep hearing are the cruel, cruel things that you said

oOo

“Jethro.” Disappointment. Relief. Compassion. A dozen different emotions that only Ducky could put into one word—everything except _‘I told you so’._ Ducky took off his glasses and straightened his shoulders expectantly. “I presume you’ve seen Anthony with your own eyes.” It wasn’t really a question and they both knew it. 

Gibbs sighed and locked eyes with the older man, letting him see the regret and the determination to do something about DiNozzo, but refusing to say the words… the _‘I’m sorry’_ Ducky never gave up hope of hearing. 

“Boss!” An impatient Abby tugged on his sleeve. “You’ve got to get Tony out of there. He won’t let anyone but Ducky in to see him.” She whined in his ear. “I know you got in, but you’re Gibbs and everyone knows—” 

“Abs.” Detaching her fingers from his shirt, Gibbs settled her back on Ducky’s rolling office chair and ignored her accusing eyes. “Relax. I’m gonna get him out of there before they kill him.” 

“Jethro!” Ducky frowned. “They’re not going to kill Anthony. They’re trying to help him as best they can which admittedly doesn’t seem to be working just yet. We need to give them time…”

“Tony doesn’t like doctors.” McGee spoke up. “He’s not gonna talk to them. We’re his team, he’ll talk to us.”

“Gibbs will make him talk.” Ziva nodded and exchanged glances with Abby. “And if not, we—” 

“Nobody’s gonna make DiNozzo talk.” Gibbs insisted. “He’s suppressing something bad that happened to him and when he remembers, he’ll talk and get better.”

“From what I’ve observed…” Ducky put his glasses back on. “He focused on his mother’s death… admitted it was his fault. Seeing the lieutenant’s body on the sofa triggered Anthony’s break with reality—”

“That’s boloney mister!” Abby surged out of the chair and started to stomp toward Ducky waving both hands wildly. “Tony would never, ever...eek!” Abby squealed as McGee caught her arm, tugged her back and gently pressed her down by the shoulders before taking up guard beside her chair.

“No one is saying Tony really killed his mom.” McGee gently remonstrated. “We know he didn’t. Ducky is just saying Tony thinks he did.”

“Er… correct, Timothy.” Ducky nodded. “What Anthony believes is the truth for him and right now he believes he’s a killer. He’s not only suppressed the pertinent memory, but _all_ of his memories just to be safe.” Ducky glanced around to make sure they were all listening. “Which leaves his mind in a vacuum.” He waited for a beat and when no one said anything, he went on. “Which means _something_ will push in to fill it and so far, what I’ve seen is very disturbing.”

“He asked if I was the Avenger.” Gibbs said softly staring at the floor. “I think he assumed I was there to kill him.”

Abby gasped and McGee squeezed her shoulder. “No! That’s just wrong!” Abby bounced in her seat making the wheels move back and forth. “Gibbs would never!”

McGee rolled his eyes. “So what should we do boss? Tell Tony stuff to get him to remember?”

“No.” Ducky shook his head at McGee, but his eyes were on Gibbs. “I would not recommend that course of action. Anthony has to remember on his own and confront the emotion it evokes. He will, of course, need our support.”

“I’m taking him home with me.” Gibbs announced and stood. “They’ve got him locked in a little room with no tv, no music, no nothing. He either stares at the wall or sleeps.”

“Locked up?” Ziva narrowed her eyes. “Tony has done nothing to be locked up over.”

“No tv!” Ziva and Abby exchanged frowns. “Are you sure that wasn’t a pod-Tony?”

“What?” Gibbs asked at the same time McGee snorted. “Where’s Palmer? I wanted to go over what happened one more time.” 

“He should be back soon.” Ducky checked his watch. “I sent him on an errand before I realized you were coming down here for an impromptu meeting.”

“I’m gonna need you to go with me in case there’s any trouble getting him out of there.” Gibbs told Ducky. “I’ve already talked to Vance about a few days off.”

“OH! OH! Can I come?” Abby managed to get around McGee and jumped up and down. “Please! Please! Please!”

“No.” Gibbs and Ducky answered at the same time. “Don’t you have any work to do?” Gibbs glared at all of them until they left Autopsy. When they were alone, Gibbs finished his coffee and sighed. “I don’t know what I’m doing Duck, but I can’t leave him there. He looked so…” Gibbs shook his head. “I’ve never seen him like that. He thought I was there to kill him and he just accepted it.”

“I think the first thing we need to do is talk to Anthony’s father. He will have the details we’re missing about Anthony’s mother’s passing. I can phone him in the morning.”

“No. I’ll call him.” Gibbs set his jaw. Any man that told his son his mother’s suicide s his fault didn’t deserve a son. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Ducky sighed. “I have observed you have a tendency to antagonize each other.”

“I’ll call him.” Gibbs insisted. “Do you think he should come here and talk to DiNozzo in person?”

Ducky took his glasses off and cleaned them again while he pondered. “Perhaps his father can reach Anthony. After all, he’s the one that initiated these feelings of guilt when he was a child.” Ducky carefully put his glasses back on and adjusted them. “Perhaps Anthony will listen to him. That is if you can convince him to come—“

“He’ll come and talk to DiNozzo if I have to drag him all the way from New York by the scruff of the neck.” Gibbs promised taking a sip of his almost cold coffee.

“Perhaps it would be best if I phoned Anthony’s father first.” Ducky reasoned. “You have a tendency to lose your temper with the man.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Gibbs grabbed his jacket and went to find Senior’s phone number.

oOo

It took Gibbs twenty minutes of talking to one assistant after another and being put on hold twice, transferred a couple more times before DiNozzo Senior finally deigned to take the call. 

“What’s Junior done now?” Deep, heavy sigh. “You know Gibbs, I’m amazed you’ve been able to put up with him this long. He usually screws up jobs much quicker than this. You must be a very patient man. Why I remember—”

Gibbs clamped down on the words that wanted to spill out and scorch Senior through the phone wires. This was for DiNozzo and he needed answers. Maybe he should’ve had Ducky call after all.

“DiNozzo hasn’t screwed anything up. He’s a fine agent.” Gibbs took a deep, calming breath and continued. “He’s had some kind of breakdown. He’s…” Gibbs struggled with how to phrase this because the thought suddenly occurred to him that Senior might want to take DiNozzo away—put him in a private hospital, see his own doctors and that wasn’t going to happen.

“Really?” Senior gave a disbelieving snort. “I thought you knew Junior, Gibbs. Surely you’re not that gullible?” The memory of his first reaction stung Gibbs for a moment.

“Really.” Was the only thing he trusted himself to say right then. Pressing the phone tighter against his ear, Gibbs thought he heard traffic noises—DiNozzo senior was in a car.

“Well...” Gibbs heard Senior talking to someone else, giving instructions. “Sorry about that. Don’t think you can have the bills sent to me. Doesn’t he have insurance for this kind of thing? Now if there’s nothing else…?”

“That’s it?” Gibbs rubbed a hand over his face and snorted. He didn’t need to ask what kind of man this was, he already knew. “I need… DiNozzo mentioned…”

“Look Gibbs, I have to catch a plane in a few minutes. We’re already at the airport.”

“Yes, there’s something else!” Closing his eyes, Gibbs took a deep breath and then another. “What happened with his mom? He said… it was her fault she died.” 

“Ah.” Senior sighed again. “Well that’s certainly true.”

“What!” Gibbs froze. DiNozzo’d been a child! No way could he kill his own mother unless it was some freak accident Senior had hushed up.

“Look, Gibbs. You and I both know there are times when the real killer doesn’t actually pull the trigger.” Gibbs clenched his teeth and wanted to jerk the bastard through the phone. “Junior was the root cause of my… of his mother’s death. She was delicate, high-strung not to put too fine a point on it and couldn’t deal with an out of control, wayward juvenile delinquent.” Gibbs was sure the phone was going to break into a million pieces before Senior shut up. “And we all know Junior is barely under control now.” Another bored sigh. “And if he’s had some kind of breakdown, well….” Senior trailed off.

“He was eight years old!” Gibbs snapped. “Is that why you can barely force yourself to call him by his name?” Forget wishing he’d let Ducky make this call. Right now he wished he’d driven up there so he could beat that supercilious smile he could hear off Senior’s face. Picturing him reeling back, eyes wide, grabbing his nose and blood dripping out between his fingers gave Gibbs some satisfaction, but not enough. 

Unbidden DiNozzo’s laughter filled his mind and he remembered having to sit through a stupid movie – True Lies with Arnold what’s-his-name where Arnold’s character fantasized about smashing in someone’s face. Closing his eyes, Gibbs despaired of ever hearing DiNozzo’s laughter again. 

“Exactly my point.” Senior said in freezing tones that never stopped Gibbs before. “I really do have to—“ 

“Exactly how did your wife die, Mr. DiNozzo?” Gibbs ground out harshly. “The police report says suicide by gunshot.”

“I’m not sure why you’re asking if you already know. Look Gibbs, I have to—“

“I don’t give a damn about your flight! Unless you’re on your way here.” Gibbs shouted and instantly felt better. “Your son is in trouble and he needs your help.”

“He hasn’t been my son since he was twelve!” Senior said sharply. “He killed his mother. How long did you expect me to keep him under the same roof … in my house….” Senior sputtered and Gibbs gave into the rage and threw the phone at the wall. Smashing into a dozen pieces with a satisfying thunk, it chirped a couple times and died. _Shit._ Now he was gonna have to get another one and have McGee make it work. He didn’t have time for this. 

oOo


	7. I got bruises on my memory

oOo

Tony lay still and silent on the narrow bed watching the light from the tiny window above him climb up the door across from his bed. He held the thin white sheet and faded cotton blanket tightly in both hands clutched under his chin and waited. When the light reached the door handle, he would push the covers down and wrap himself tightly in the thick robe Ducky brought the first week. In time, his skin would warm slightly, but it would be enough to mark the difference between the cold inside and his skin. 

Before the light hit the door handle, Tony heard the click and suddenly _the Avenger_ was in the doorway eyes pinning him to the bed. It was time. 

oOo

 

Tony lay still as Jethro Gibbs dragged the chair away from the wall by the door and swung it around to straddle it facing his bed. “You ready to get out of here DiNozzo?”

“Don’t.” Tony still wasn’t quite ready to meet his eyes, but he could hear the sympathy in Jethro Gibbs’ voice. Sitting up slowly, he leaned against the wall in the space where a headboard would be. “There’s no point in pitying me.” He shrugged. “Won’t bring ‘em back and I deserve—” He trailed off, barely making a sound.

“Bring who back?” Gibbs asked in confusion. “You’re not making sense. You wanna talk to Ducky? He’s out there signing forms to get you released.” Tony lifted his eyes far enough to see the straight line Gibbs had pressed his lips into. “For the record, no one feels… no one pities you and you don’t deserve this!” Tony’s eyes snapped to his and widened at the unvarnished truth reflected in his eyes.

Dropping his own eyes in confusion, Tony tried to explain. “All those people …dead because of me.” Shrugging one shoulder and twisting his hands together, staring at them critically. 

“Did you kill someone DiNozzo and not bother to fill out a report?” 

“I didn’t mean to.” Tony said in a small voice, sliding down the wall and turning his face into the pillow away from Gibbs. “I’m sorry.” 

“DiNozzo!” Tony tried to curl up in a ball at the sound of frustration in the Avenger’s voice. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault. Whatever you think you did, whatever that sonofa—whatever your _father_ said…. None of it’s your fault.” Tony felt the bed dip and pressed himself in the mattress with a slight whimper. _Wait, please wait a minute!_ A warm hand settled on his shoulder and shook him slightly. “Look at me son.” Tony turned his head slightly so he could look at Jethro Gibbs with one eye. “You didn’t kill your mother or anyone else and you don’t deserve to be punished. Hell.” The hand pressed harder on Tony, trying to push him into setting up. “Nobody is going to punish you. I won’t damn well let them, if they try.” Tony blinked up at him and nodded. It couldn’t be true, but it was nice of the Avenger to pretend.

“I know you. I _know_ you would never kill anyone that didn’t need killing.” He leaned back and Tony missed the warmth of his hand. “I won’t lie to you DiNozzo, you’ve killed before. You’ve killed to save others, to save me. You’ve killed in self-defense, but you’ve never, _never_ killed an innocent person.”

He sat up and searched Jethro Gibbs eyes. There was only honesty there. “Then who…” He swallowed heavily and closed his eyes not able to meet the honesty in Gibbs’ eyes any longer. “Who are all those people staring at me in my dreams? They look pretty dead to me.” He said in a ragged whisper. All those accusing eyes…

“You dream about dead people?” Gibbs said and cursed silently waiting for the inevitable movie reference, but it never came. Tony’s eyes never so much as flickered in recognition. Gibbs’ shoulders slumped as he considered what was best to do. 

“I’m sure they’re dead.” Tony said doubtfully. “There’s so much blood….” Clenching his fists in the pillow, Tony glanced hopefully at Jethro Gibbs… “Maybe… Maybe Ducky saved some of them?” 

“You remember Ducky?” How could he lift one eyebrow like that?

Tony nodded and when Jethro Gibbs didn’t say anything, he glanced back up at him. _Disbelief._ Why didn’t he believe him? “Ducky took me to the office and then brought me here.” _Ducky, Probie, Ziva and Abby._ “He made Probie make me coffee.” 

“What did the Doctor say when you told him you saw these people in your dreams? Do you recognize any of them?” Tony didn’t say anything. “You did tell him, didn’t you?”

“He said I was repressing an important memory and until then I was … I was…” Tony halted frowning. “Some big word, but mostly I was going to be stuck here till then.”

“Do you want to stay here?” Gibbs asked looking pointedly around the room. “There’s no TV, no cellphone, no… nothing.”

“Yes.” Tony showed the most emotion Gibbs had seen so far. “I need to stay here.” He sat up and leaned toward Gibbs hesitantly. “I should stay here.”

“Why?” 

Tony flinched at the angry tone and leaned back. “It’s safe in here. You’re all safer if I’m here.” 

“You plan on hurting someone DiNozzo?” Gibbs tilted his head to the side. “I won’t let you hurt anyone. Especially not yourself.”

“Oh no, no it’s not that!” Tony leaned forward, hands fluttering in the air. “I would never … well, not on purpose. It just happens.”

“What the hell are you talking about!” Tony realized the Avenger had run out of patience and swallowed heavily, pressing his back against the wall.

“You need to stay away from me Jethro Gibbs. You’ll probably be ok here, it’s a hospital and all, but really... It’s better if I stay here where I can’t get you all hurt or killed.” Tony sighed. “People around me die Jethro Gibbs. You don’t want to be one of them.”

“That’s …that’s bullshit DiNozzo. You aren’t responsible for everything that goes wrong, every person that dies.” Gibbs rubbed his face. “In our line of work, people die. It’s not your fault. I’ve already told you that.”

“No.” Tony disagreed with a sad smile. “But I’m responsible for too much and looking at the odds … You said I’ve worked for you for ten years…that’s probably pushing it. You shouldn’t come back.” Realizing how much he’d been talking, Tony ducked his head shyly and picked at the edge of the blanket.

“I thought you’d be begging me to take you home, back to civilization, back to your giant, flat-screen TV and endless movies, back to designer clothes, back to your cell phone and a different woman every week. The last thing I expected was you telling me not to come back and just leave you here. Don’t you wanna go home?” 

“I …I…” Tony whispered. “…wanna go home, but...” 

 

“DiNozzo.” Gibbs moved the chair back to the desk and paused, glancing at the still figure on the bed. “I chose you for my team nearly ten years ago and nothing you’ve done since has made me change my mind. Besides, Ducky’s signing all the papers to spring you. You’re coming home with me. No—“ He held up a hand when Tony opened his mouth to protest. “You said... you said I was the Avenger right?” He waited until Tony nodded slightly. “Then do you honestly think you can hurt me?” 

Tony blinked at him and thought about it for a minute, looking Jethro Gibbs over. He was older, but there was something—something commanding and confident about the Avenger, that Tony recognized. “No.” He whispered.

“Okay then.” Gibbs slapped his hands on his knees and stood. “Get your street clothes and get changed. Day’s a wastin’.”

Tony looked around, bewildered. He had no other clothes. Each day a new set of white scrubs appeared while he was in the shower. “I don’t…” He began tentatively. “There isn’t…” He wasn’t stalling. He wasn’t. He was ready for whatever the Avenger decided.

_“Okay.”_ Gibbs growled and stalked out the door, leaving it standing wide open. 

Tony kept a wary eye on the open door. The doctors had been very careful to shut and lock it behind them whether they were coming or going. Only Jethro Gibbs hadn’t bothered to lock it when he was inside and now he’d left it wide open. Tony wasn’t sure whether he was afraid something would sneak in or he might get out—either seemed a frightening possibility.

Before he could get off the bed, Jethro Gibbs was back with a nurse. With a weary glance at Tony she went toward the sink and pressed against a small indention in the wall and a drawer popped open. She almost laughed at the look of surprise on Tony’s face before leaving them. She was careful to shut the door behind herself.

Jethro Gibbs grabbed the clothes folded neatly inside and Tony’s shoes, dumping them beside him on the bed. “I’ll be outside.” Instead of leaving though, he tried to read Tony’s face. Never one of his strong points, he felt out of his depth at the blank look in the younger man’s eyes. He wasn’t supposed to be so … so fragile. “It’s alright DiNozzo. I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you anymore.” Nodding at Tony again, he walked outside leaving the door partially open. 

Eventually Tony moved and slowly dressed never taking his eyes from the Avenger’s profile. It made a kind of sense that he would protect him. After all, it was his job to kill Tony, he wouldn’t let anyone else do it. 

When he was dressed, Tony sat on the edge of the bed and waited.

Eventually, Jethro Gibbs poked his head in and saw Tony was ready. Tony stood and walked to the doorway. With a sigh, Jethro Gibbs pushed past him and grabbed the robe and the notebook and the paperbacks before shaking his head at Tony and leading the way out, waving at Ducky waiting at the elevator. Tony looked around curiously but kept close to the Avenger’s heels. He didn’t want to be lost or abandoned out here where it wasn’t safe.

Once he was safely buckled in the car and Jethro Gibbs was pulling out of the parking lot, Tony blurted out. “I don’t want to die.”

Jethro Gibbs glance at him in surprise and gave him a lopsided grin that made Tony almost want to grin back. “Me neither.” He said. “Not gonna let anyone kill you DiNozzo.” 

With that he turned back to driving and Tony looked out the side window and felt something hot and tight bloom in his chest. Letting his forehead rest against the glass, Tony clenched his eyes shut and wished desperately to be someone who deserved that smile but knew he wasn’t and never would be.

 

 

oOo


	8. I got tear stains on my hands

oOo

The team showed up at Gibbs to visit Tony the Friday after Gibbs brought Tony home, and one by one they realized their Tony was gone. A silent, frozen man sat in front of the large-screen TV McGee brought from Tony’s apartment, unwilling to talk much or even look at them. 

After calling his name three times and failing to get his attention, Abby leaned over and tapped Tony’s knee. “Hey.” She said softly when she broke his concentration and he turned his head reluctantly away from Gibbs. “Tony, how’s come you keep watching Gibbs?” Abby had tried to find a reason for Tony’s intense fixation on Gibbs. Since she’d been here, he’d barely taken his eyes off of him and even when he went in the kitchen, Tony watched the doorway until he returned. He acted almost … afraid of the Bossman, but that couldn’t be true. Gibbs would never hurt Tony or any of them, not really. Perhaps it was because Gibbs was being uncharacteristically gentle with Tony, instead of gruffly shouting ‘DiNozzo’ every few minutes. She hadn’t seen him smack the back of his head once.

Tony turned only far enough so that he could still keep an eye on Gibbs talking in a low voice with Ducky and blinked at Abby.

With a darting glance to Gibbs, Tony leaned toward Abby and whispered conspiratorially. “He’s an Avenger.” Nodding slowly he went on. “He’s going to kill me.”

Abby bit her lip, at a loss of how to answer. Tony leaned back and continued his study of Gibbs. Taking a deep breath, she reached across and took both of Tony’s hands in her own, squeezing them when he tried to pull away. Wide, frightened eyes met hers and she smiled tentatively.

“I suppose you could call Gibbs an Avenger, but Tony, he would never kill you. Ever.” Abby implored with her eyes and squeezed his hands harder when he tried to shrink back into himself. “I promise. Pinky swear, Gibbs will not hurt you. But Tony…” She grinned at him until the fear left his eyes. “… you’re an Avenger too, same as Gibbs and Ziva and McGee.”

He searched her eyes for the truth and apparently found it because he squeezed her hands once and then she let them go. “Would sometimes… um… sometimes Avengers cause bad things and sometimes someone comes to take vengeance against them?” He asked quietly slipping his hands under his thighs to keep them safe. 

“No.” She shook her head back and forth, pigtails flying. “No Tony. You’ve done nothing that anyone would want to hurt you for. Except well…” she grinned. “… maybe a dozen or so bad guys might, but not the good guys. Why…” She lowered her voice and leaned in again. “What do you think you did that someone should take you out?” Gibbs hadn’t said anything about this. Maybe it’s what he was in the kitchen conferring with Ducky about. 

“I killed her.” He hung his head, ashamed to meet her eyes. “Them.”

“What?” She laid a hand on his knee and ignored the way he tensed. “Tony you didn’t kill anyone.”

“They’re dead because of me.” His voice was barely a sound. He didn’t want Jethro Gibbs to overhear, after he’d gotten so upset the first time he’d told him. Maybe the Avenger didn’t want to kill him, maybe he was working up the … no, _nerve_ wasn’t the right word. Tony could see Jethro Gibbs didn’t need any more nerve, he had plenty. Maybe it was because of the softness in his eyes when Tony dared meet them, softness for _him_ as impossible as that sounded. 

“Who?” Abby asked a little too loudly and Tony ducked his head lower. “Tony, there’s no way anyone is dead because of you.” Abby scooted closer and pulled Tony against her. “Stop freezing up. I hug you all the time and you like it.” She whispered in his ear. “Now tell me, who’s dead because of you? And bad guys don’t count.” She added with a slight giggle.

“My mother.” He whispered. She shook her head sharply and a pigtail slapped him in the face. 

“NO.” She wrapped her arms around him awkwardly and pulled him against her. Gibbs looked up at his squeak and he gave Tony a crooked smile and a small headshake. “You were just a child, Tony. No way can you be blamed for your mother’s death. Who else?” Patting his back a couple times, she laced her fingers with his.

“There’s a dark-haired woman, she’s laughing and then her blood is splattering my face.” Tony swiped absently at his face, looking down at his shoes. When he closed his eyes, he could picture the faces from his dreams.

“That…that was Kate.” Abby swallowed heavily and tried to catch Gibbs’ eye. “You didn’t kill her Tony. Ari did. Ari killed her and the Bossman killed him. Gibbs killed him.” She added seeing the puzzled look on his face before he turned back to state at Gibbs.

Tony saw movement out of the corner of his eye and caught Abby signing frantically at Gibbs. “That’s good.” He nodded. “Jethro Gibbs is the Avenger.” _Ducky and Probie and Ziva and Abby and Jethro Gibbs—the Avenger--Bossman. Why would one man need so many names? Maybe he had a lot of masks? Maybe the Avenger identity was a secret._

 

oOo

 

Gibbs sat in the kitchen and talked quietly with Ducky, eyes drifting back to Tony every few minutes. “He’ll sit in front of the TV as movie after movie plays, but I don’t think he’s really seeing anything. He can’t stand the sight of blood. If it’s not gone in a few seconds, he’ll get up and leave.” Gibbs took a long sip from the can of beer in his hand. “I sit beside him night after night and when he finally gets drowsy and nods off, I send him up to the spare room. I’m not helping Duck.” Gibbs said in frustration. “I’m not sure DiNozzo is even in there anymore.”

“You are Jethro. You truly are.” Ducky leaned across the kitchen table and patted Gibbs’ hand. “I’ve been watching him. He listens to you. He ignores the rest of us most of the time, but he has a connection with you. Don’t give up on Anthony yet. I noticed he’s gained a bit of weight and his skin is almost normal in color. You’re doing wonders for him.”

“I dunno Duck.” Gibbs shook his head and ran his thumb over the writing on the beer can. “He’s been here a week, shouldn’t he have… I dunno… started talking or something? It’s unnatural.”

“Apathy.” Ducky sipped his own cup of tea. “It’s a vicious circle Jethro. He can’t start to heal until he deals with his repressed memories and he doesn’t want to do that. So he does nothing in the hopes that it will all go away. I expected him to regress a bit, hunker down as you will, when we brought him here.”

“What! Why!” Gibbs hissed, eyes darting to Tony to make sure he hadn’t noticed. “Why the hell did you agree to take him out of Bethesda then Duck? I don’t want to make him worse.”

“Jethro.” Gibbs watched Ducky’s fingers play with the teacup while he searched for the right words. “Anthony felt safe in that little room. He couldn’t hurt anyone there and with only a few people allowed in… I’m sure the only reason he managed to leave it was because you didn’t give him a choice.”

Only a tiny frown marred Gibbs’ expression. “So, I should have left him there? Where he was ‘safe’?” Using air quotes, Gibbs didn’t bother to keep the sarcasm out of his tone.

“No, Jethro. That’s not what I’m saying.” Ducky sighed and took a small sip of the rapidly cooling tea. “Anthony needs to be around people and things that prompt his memories. Leaving him there in that cocooned little world wasn’t doing anything to help him. Although I am surprised and hopeful that you got him out of that room with very little fuss. He didn’t even argue with you from what I could tell.” Ducky looked up and met his eyes. “When you think he’s ready, there’s someone I think he should talk to.” 

“Ah Duck.” Gibbs drained the beer and crushed the can in his fist. “Not another shrink. They didn’t do DiNozzo any good at Bethesda. He hates doctors as much as he hates pills.”

“We’ll wait on any more anti-depressants until … this doctor is different Jethro. I believe she can help Anthony.”

“Why? Do you know her personally? What makes her so special?”

“Dr. Rachel Cranston has worked with many law enforcement officers, Jethro. She’s helped a lot of people.”

“Still not seeing anything special Duck.” Gibbs got up and went to the refrigerator for another can of beer. Holding it in his hand, he sighed and traded it for a bottle of water. “I need to know she’s not going to hurt DiNozzo any more than he already is before I let a stranger at him.” Gibbs returned to the table and sat down facing Ducky, giving Tony a quick glance before twisting off the lid to the water.

“She’s Kate’s sister.” Ducky said softly watching Gibbs closely. His eyes widened but he made no sound. “I believe she has the knowledge and skill set to guide Anthony back to us.” Ducky pushed the teacup away. “But someone—that would be you Jethro—has to reach Anthony and make him want to come back to reality.”

“When I ask him questions, all he answers is ‘What difference does it make.’ I just…” Gibbs took another sip. “He watches me like a hawk sometimes. Like I might … hurt him. He called me the Avenger once.” Gibbs stared at his hands. “He thinks I’m some kind of executioner keeping him here until I get around to executing him.”

Jethro.” Ducky sighed. “Anthony’s had a break from reality. He’s punishing himself as best he can, but it’s not enough so he believes someone is coming to finish the job. He’s chosen you for that role.”

“I’m not gonna do anything to him Duck! Hell, he’s been through enough.” Gibbs drained the water and threw the bottle at the sink. “For all the time he spends sleeping, I’m not sure he’s getting any real rest. I’m just getting so frustrated because nothing I do seems to help.”

“We all know that Jethro.” Duck admonished. “But don’t you see, you’re the only one he’s let in, no matter the capacity. Do you know he repeats our names over and over under his breath to remind him of who we are?” Ducky rubbed a hand across his face. “He recognized something in you Jethro, something that I hope you can use to bring our boy home.”

“He mumbles to himself, Duck, Won’t answer when I ask what he said, it’s like he’s not even awake. He looks around like he thinks he should be somewhere else.” Gibbs went on as if Ducky hadn’t spoken. 

“Waking nightmares perhaps.” Ducky suggested shaking his head. “He’ll do better now that he can be around people who care for him, Jethro. Our Anthony was about to slip through the cracks and we are all he has. Right now, you’re the only one he hears.” 

“I don’t think he realizes that Ducky. How can I get through to him?”

“You are Jethro. See he’s gained a little weight and doesn’t look so much like a ghost now. He cared very deeply for you before, you’re his father-figure, mentor… whatever you want to call it, but Anthony trusts you. Your approval means everything to him. He hasn’t forgotten that. Talk to him, tell him how you feel.” Ducky tried to keep the grin off his face.

“Yeah.” Gibbs gave him a lopsided smile. “You know how good I am with that.”

oOo

Abby sat across the room and watched Tony, silent tears running down her face. _No wonder he was so good at undercover, he wanted to be someone else all the time._ Jumping slightly when McGee leaned against her chair and handed her a handkerchief, Abby smiled slightly at thought that of course McGee would have a real handkerchief. Wiping her face, she looked up at him gratefully. “What are we gonna do Tim?” She asked softly. “It’s like he’s forgotten we’re here unless someone talks to him.”

“I don’t know Abby. Gibbs and Ducky will figure it out. We’re not giving up on Tony.” He patted her shoulder awkwardly and tried to smile.

Ziva sat on the couch beside Tony, carefully leaving space between them. “I have plenty of memories I am not proud of, that I would like to forget, Tony.” She touched his knee and ignored the way he flinched. “But I don’t because they are what shaped me into me.” Thumping herself on the chest, she willed him to understand.

“She had on this blue dress. It wasn’t really sky blue, unless maybe it’s the sky before a storm. Almost a greyish, purpley blue. Is that a real color?” He looked around as if Ziva spoken. “Anyway, it didn’t go with her eyes at all…”

“Tony!” Ziva said impatiently. “What are you talking about?” She flushed when everyone turned to look at her. “What? I am trying to talk to him and he is … _blue dress?”_ Ziva sniffed. “What is he talking about? I do not understand.”

“ … she’d have looked better with a light blue, powder blue? Baby blue? Something like that.” Tony looked at her guilelessly and opened his mouth to go on when Abby cried out. 

“Baby blue!” Smiling widely at Tony, Abby waited till he nodded and then made a _shut-up what are you thinking? Don’t argue with the crazy man_ \- face at Ziva who tossed her hair and picked up her jacket. 

“Tony.” She said in an overly sweet voice. “I am late for an appointment. I will call you later.” Without waiting for an answer, she went out the front door, closing it softly behind her. Abby frowned after her with narrowed eyes, hoping she could feel the death ray through the door.

“I just left her sitting there at the table.” Tony shook his head and rubbed his hands together, not noticing that Ziva had left. “She was just some poor girl who was stupid enough to come on a blind date with me and I…” Tony trailed off and rubbed his hands harder.

Gibbs pushed his chair back and went in the living room, leaving Ducky behind in the middle of a story. Glancing at Abby, he shook his head and closed his eyes briefly. She had almost her entire fist stuck in her mouth and tears spilled over her hand.

“What’s that DiNozzo?” He sat down beside Tony, close enough that their shoulders touched and was pleased to see that he didn’t flinch anymore. “Some girl actually went out on a blind date with you?” His memories must be coming back. Maybe Ducky was right.

“I went to the bathroom before we ordered.” Tony said softly glancing up far enough to see Gibbs’ chin and then back to his hands. Gibbs reached over and stilled Tony’s hands, pulling them apart.

“Nervous?” McGee chimed in trying to keep Tony talking. 

“No.” Tony said doubtfully. “I never went back. I slipped out the backdoor and met some… some… I dunno, I ended up in a bar. We had a good laugh.” His voice got lower and lower and Gibbs had to duck his head to hear him.

“Well, that certainly wasn’t a nice thing to do, but it’s not a crime.” Ducky said from the doorway. 

Tony lifted his head slightly and shrugged. “They found her the next morning. She’d taken all her mom’s sleeping pills.” He winced at the collective gasp. “She still had on the blue dress. She’s wearing it in my dreams.”

McGee fought the feeling of embarrassment and tried to tell Tony about a new movie that just came out. “Maybe we could go together, we can all go.” Looking over at Gibbs for approval, McGee tried for a smile. “How does that sound?”

Tony just shook his head listlessly. “You go on ahead Probie. I don’t… I…” He looked at Gibbs helplessly. “I…”

“I think it’s time I was going, Jethro.” Ducky pulled on his raincoat and started for the front door. “I’m not really—“

“No Ducky!” Abby jumped up and ran to grab him. “The pizza’s not even here yet. You can’t go now. Pleeeeese?” She tugged at his overcoat until he relented with a sigh and let her take it. 

“The world is flat.” They all turned to look at Tony and he nodded, eyes on his hands. “It’s true. I know they said all that stuff in school about the world being round and all but, it’s not. It really is flat.”

“Anthony?” Ducky took a step toward Tony and exchanged a look with Gibbs. Abby was hanging Ducky’s overcoat back up and she let out a little sound. She glanced around at the others and then back at Tony. “Why is the world flat Tony? How do you know?”

“Cause I fell off the edge.” He said like they should already understand this. “I fell off and I hung there for a long time and then I couldn’t hold on any longer.”

“Then what happened?” McGee asked haltingly, not sure he wanted to know. “What—”

Tony started laughing, softly at first then louder and louder. “I fell down the rabbit hole.” 

“Tony.” Abby spoke his name quietly, trying to get his attention. “Tony, stop it.”

“I fell down the rabbit hole and I’m too big to get through the door.” Tony looked up, still laughing at Gibbs sitting beside him. “Or maybe I’m too small.” Looking back down at his lap again. “I can never tell the difference.” He whispered. Gibbs pulled him into a quick hug, eyes blazing at Ducky over Tony’s head.

Before he could say anything, the doorbell rang and things were chaos until the pizza boxes were arranged and napkins and drinks passed around. In the bustle, no one noticed Tony was still sitting on the couch, watching them with longing.  
oOo 

 

_You don’t belong here—in the light and laughter. You’re just dragging ‘em down. Making Abby cry._ With one last look to imprint them on his memory, Tony stood and walked out the front door, not glancing at his Nike’s on the floor or grabbing his jacket. Outside, he shivered in the wind and barely felt the damp soaking through his socks. _Time to go._

oOo

“C’mon DiNozzo.” Gibbs called into the living room. “McGee’s gonna eat all the pepperoni.”

“I… am not!” McGee spluttered. Abby poked him in the back and looked toward the living room. 

“Tony! Pizza’s getting cold.” 

When no answer came, Gibbs dropped his plate on the counter and walked around the table. “DiNozzo!” Tony wasn’t on the couch and Gibbs’ heart skipped a beat when he saw the front door standing wide open. “DiNozzo!” 

“What’s the mat—” The rest of them pushed at each other to be the first through the kitchen doorway, alarmed at the panicked tone in Gibbs’ voice. Gibbs didn’t panic.

“Where’s Tony?” Abby asked frantically searching the room with her eyes. “Tony!” She looked up the stairway into the darkness above. “Tony!”

“He can’t… his shoes are still here!” McGee stuttered following Gibbs to the door. Abby rushed past a frozen Gibbs and looked outside. 

“It’s stopped raining.” Turning back to Gibbs, she touched his shoulder and he blinked at her for a second before his face fell into a deep scowl.

“Ducky you and Abby search the house.” Gibbs reached for his jacket and pulled it on. “McGee, you look one direction and I’ll check the other.”

“Jethro, surely Anthony wouldn’t go out in dark—without shoes or a coat. Does he have a cell?”

Ignoring Ducky, Gibbs looks down the sidewalk both ways before pointing McGee to the right and taking off at a run going left. The park where they often jogged when Tony used to spend the occasional night was down there. Maybe… maybe Tony had subconsciously gone that way.

It was almost dark and all he could hear was his boots thudding on the sidewalk and faint cries as the others called Tony’s name occasionally. Stopping to question two dogwalkers and mother dragging a reluctant kid, Gibbs made it to the park and stopped to look over the scene and catch his breath. A pre-teen boy walked across the grass kicking something ahead of him. “Hey kid.” He stood still so as to not frighten the boy. “You seen a man, tall, brown hair, Ohio State sweatshirt?”

The kid stopped and stared at him suspiciously for a moment before shaking his head. “Nah. But some guys got a homeless freak retard cornered down by the john.” 

Gibbs bit his lip and fought down the urge to get distracted by the homeless man when it dawned on him that Tony probably _was_ the homeless man. 

With a growl of anger he angled through the playground at a run and into the trees toward the small restroom facilities near the parking lot. Four older teens had DiNozzo surrounded on the ground, his back against the block building taunting him and poking at him with branches ripped from the trees. Knees up, arms wrapped around his head, Tony shrieked his name over and over, but made no move to fight back. _“JethroGibbsJethroGibbs JethroGibbsJethroGibbs.”_

With a wordless shout, Gibbs scattered the kids who ran away cursing and laughing. Not giving them a second glance, he crouched before Tony and pulled his hands away from his face. “Hey DiNozzo. Hey. It’s me.” Tony jerked away and covered his face again. “Shhh.” Gibbs rubbed his hand reassuringly up and down Tony’s arm. “It’s just me. Not gonna let anyone hurt you. You’re safe now. It’s all right.”

It took several minutes before Tony calmed down enough to look up at Gibbs with relief in his eyes, doing little to hide the unshed tears. Gibbs tugged on his arm and they both stood. Gibbs rubbed his aching knees and Tony’s eyes darted around for any sign of his tormentors. 

“You ok, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked wrapping one hand around Tony’s upper arm to guide him back home. “Why’d you run away?”

Tony shrugged and looked down. His socks were sopping wet and his feet very cold. 

“C’mon, let’s get you home and get some dry socks on you. Why the hell did you run off without your shoes?” Gibbs pushed the anger down and concentrated on the relief. “You scared the shit outta me. Don’t do that anymore okay?”

Jiggling Tony’s arm to get his attention, Gibbs repeated it a little louder. “Okay?”

Pulling them to a stop, he faced Tony and lifted his head with one hand, not letting go of his arm, half-afraid Tony would run again. “You don’t have to run away Tony. You want to go somewhere, you ask me and I’ll take you.” Gibbs leaned in to try and see the expression on Tony’s face, but it was too dark. “Anywhere you wanna go.”

“Okay.” Tony whispered. “Wanna go home.” Swiping a sleeve across his eyes, Tony tried to smile but it came out as a grimace and Gibbs blinked back wetness that was on no account _tears._

“Good.” Gibbs started for his house, walking slowly, but not taking his hand from Tony’s arm. “We’re going home. Pizza might even still be warm.” With his free hand, he pulled his phone out and dialed McGee to let them know he’d found Tony.

“Yes, he’s safe.” Gibbs said with a sideways glance at Tony. He’d make Ducky check him over when the others left. No telling what those hoodlums had done to the kid.

 

oOo


	9. And in the mirror there's a vision of what used to be a man

oOo

Running quickly down the hall and into the spare bedroom— _DiNozzo’s room now_ —Gibbs dropped one knee on the edge of the bed and shook Tony’s shoulder. “Wake up. Wake up, now. It’s just a nightmare.” When Tony jerked awake, his eyes were filled with dread turning to relief when he saw Gibbs. Suddenly embarrassed, he turned his face into the pillow.

“They’re dead.” He mumbled into the pillow. “I killed them and they won’t go away.”

“DiNozzo you didn’t kill anyone.” Gibbs brushed Tony’s hair back. “It was just a nightmare.”

“They are!” Gibbs strained to hear the agonized whisper. “I see their faces in my dreams. They just stand there and look at me. Accusing me.”

“Hush now.” Gibbs rubbed his hand up and down Tony’s arm. That always seemed to calm him down. “It’s alright. It was just a nightmare. They’re not really there. You can go back to sleep.”

“No.” Tony moved his head slightly to peek at Gibbs with one eye. “They’ll come back. Unless...” His eye clenched shut and Gibbs squeezed his arm.

“Unless what?”

“Um.” The eye peeked open and closed again. “Maybe if you um… if you stayed here, they wouldn’t…” Tony trailed off hiding his face again.

“Okay then. I’ll stay here till you fall asleep.” Gibbs promised and watched Tony roll over and look up at him in surprise. “I won’t leave you.” 

“’S good.” Tony closed his eyes. “They’re afraid of you.”

“Go back to sleep DiNozzo.” Gibbs scooted up so he could lean back against the headboard and watched Tony snuffle into the pillow. At least he was responding to him most of the time now. “They won’t come back while I’m here.” He whispered pulling the comforter up to Tony’s chin.

 

oOo

“Time to wake up, I’ve gotta go to work. Hey come on, DiNozzo. You can’t be that sleepy.” Gibbs leaned over the bed and shook his shoulder a little harder, straightening when Tony slitted his eyes open a fraction. “There’s fresh coffee and I got some pop tart things Abby said you like. That stack of movies she brought you is on the coffee table if you get bored.”

“Mmf.” Tony mumbled and closed his eyes again trying to roll away.

“Come on get up.” Gibbs grabbed his shoulder again, pulling him back. “You slept most of yesterday, you can’t be that tired.” He waited until Tony actually got out of bed and followed him downstairs, blue robe flapping open.

Putting a mug of sweet hot coffee in his hands, Gibbs pointed to the box of pop tarts and said. “I’ll be back to make some lunch, ok?”

Tony took a sip of coffee and nodded absently, staring at nothing. He waited while Gibbs shuffled around filling a travel mug with coffee ignoring the worried glances the older man kept giving him.

“If you don’t want to watch a movie, remember McGee brought your laptop.” Gibbs suggested suddenly getting a bad feeling in his gut and not wanting to leave Tony alone. 

“You could play a game or something …” His voice trailed off into nothing as he realized Tony wasn’t listening. Or rather he was listening to something, just not him. Gibbs looked around, even glanced out the window for the source of just exactly what had Tony’s head tilted to the side and his eyes so blank.

“You could play some music.” Gibbs checked his watch and knew he was going to be late enough to get stuck in heavy traffic. For once he hoped they didn’t catch a case so he could check on Tony. “I’ve got to go. Are you gonna be okay?”

Tony slowly rotated his head so he met Gibbs’s eyes and gave him a bare nod. He still had the coffee cup in his hands. With a sigh, Gibbs picked up the travel mug and left the kitchen.

Tony waited until he heard the front door close, Gibbs’ car start up and back down the drive. He waited another minute or two watching the clock on the wall before sitting the coffee down on the counter beside the coffee maker and slowly, ponderously walked back upstairs and climbed into bed. He shivered a moment at the lost warmth, but it didn’t take long for him to drift off to sleep.

At 12:45 Gibbs came through the front door, two large coffees and a bag of fast-food in hand to a silent house. The TV was off and the stack of movies untouched. For a moment he thought Tony ran off again and he panicked. Shouting Tony’s name he ran to the kitchen and scowled when he saw the untouched, cold cup of coffee still on the counter. 

Sitting the food and drinks beside it, he hollered for DiNozzo taking the stairs two at a time, stopping only when he reached Tony’s door. From the doorway he saw the unmoving lump under the comforter that could only be Tony and breathed out a sigh of relief. Pushing down a flash of irritation he called Tony’s name softly, then insistently.

The lump moved and the comforter was slowly pulled down to reveal mussed hair and an expressionless Tony.

“Hey.” Gibbs tugged the comforter farther down. “You been up here all day?”

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Tony looked toward the window to gauge the time. With a sigh he rolled his head back to face Gibbs. “Tired.” Is all he managed before his eyes drifted close again.

“No, now come on. Get up DiNozzo.” Gibbs put an arm behind Tony’s shoulders and forced him into a sitting position. “You’re gonna take a shower and then you’re gonna eat something.” Tony didn’t resist, but wasn’t exactly deadweight either. He slid his feet out and let them drop to the floor.

“Where are your slippers?” Gibbs felt around under the bed and found nothing. Tony didn’t bother to shrug. With a groan Gibbs straightened and went to the dresser. He put Tony’s clothes away himself so he knew where the socks were. Staring at the almost empty drawer, he grabbed a pair and knelt down in front of Tony.

“Gonna have to send McGee for some more of your clothes. I think you’re gonna be here awhile.” Gibbs glanced up at him but Tony made no reaction. “Lift your foot.” He forced a laugh. “You know the last time I dressed someone else was when Kelly was four.” Tony barely blinked at him.

Both socks finally on, Gibbs pulled DiNozzo to his feet and forced him to walk down the steps in front of him and pulled out a chair at the table, Gibbs waited until Tony sat before turning to grab the food.

Unwrapping his own sandwich, Gibbs gave Tony a look. “You’re going to eat so open up that sandwich.”

Tony absently held the coffee and fiddled with the lid, trying to open the sip tab. Gibbs grabbed it out of his hands and snapped it open quickly. Tony lifted his eyes and reached for the sandwich unwrapping it carefully. Staring at it a few minutes until he heard Gibbs start to say something, Tony lifted the bun off and examined the insides. Piece by piece he dissected the sandwich, moving food around. When Gibbs growled his name, he picked it up and slammed it together haphazardly taking a quick bite. Chewing a hundred times, counting slowly he finally swallowed his first bite just as Gibbs finished half his burger. Taking a slow sip of coffee he made a face and reached for the sugar. Three spoonful’s later Tony tested a sip and added another overflowing spoonful. 

By the time he’d taken his second bite, Gibbs was finished and wadded the paper up to toss back in the sack. “I’m not leaving until you finish.” His look dared Tony to argue. “And when you finish eating, you’re going to take a shower.” Tony gave him a mulish look and Gibbs almost laughed to himself. Encouraged by this small bit of emotion, he kept his expression bland. At least he was finally reaching Tony. “Yes you’re going to take a shower if I have to drag you in and wash you myself.”

Tony’s eyes widened slightly and he wondered if it was worth the effort to see if _Jethro Gibbs_ really would get in the shower with him and scrub him down. _Nah,_ he thought, _if Jethro Gibbs said it, he’d do it._ Suddenly starving he grabbed the sandwich and started biting huge chunks, barely chewing before swallowing. 

Gibbs frowned, but didn’t say anything. Grabbing his coffee in one hand, Tony lurched to his feet. Wadding the paper with his other hand, Tony tossed the ball at the trash can in the corner and started for the stairs. “Let’s get this over with.” He mumbled when he didn’t hear _Jethro Gibbs_ behind him.

In the bedroom, he left the coffee on the dresser and pulled out a clean tee-shirt and some pajama pants. He figured he’d had the socks on half an hour, they couldn’t be that dirty. Down the hall he heard the shower start up and with a sigh, he carried the clean clothes to the bathroom. Taking a shower was any annoying waste of time, but then so was _Jethro Gibbs_ making him take one and he was getting tired of it.

“Don’t forget to brush your teeth.” Gibbs said before leaving, not quite closing the door. Tony slowly stripped, letting his clothes lay where they fell and stepped into the hot water. At first it burned, but then slowly warmed him. Wrinkling his nose at the fruity shower soap, Tony poured some out in his hand and started to wash.

Out in five minutes, he was almost dry when suddenly he’s on his knees retching into the toilet, both hands hugging the bowl. Between heaves, he hoped _Jethro Gibbs_ was far enough away that he couldn’t hear and come ‘rescue’ him again. Some Avenger, couldn’t bring himself to do his duty for some reason. Killing him would make a lot of people much safer. 

Standing outside the door, Gibbs closed his eyes at the sound and waited it stopped before going in and wetting a cloth to wipe Tony’s mouth. Hoping a joke would lighten the mood, he laughed at Tony. “If you didn’t like the burger, you could have just said so.”

Tony didn’t even look at him, just leaned back on his knees, one hand clutching the towel around him and the other still on the toilet seat. 

“Come on, let’s get you dressed. You’re shivering.” Gibbs pulled Tony to his feet and grabbed another towel off the shelf and, started rubbing down Tony’s hair and shoulders. “You’ll want to brush your teeth for sure now.” 

Grabbing the pajama pants, Gibbs bent down and held them for Tony to step into. Once his feet were in, Gibbs pulled them up to the bottom of the towel and then stood, turning away to hang up the towel he used on Tony’s hair. When he turned back, Tony had pulled them up, letting the wet towel fall to the floor. “Get the tee-shirt on.” Gibbs handed it to him and hung up the other towel.

“McGee brought all that stuff for your hair, if you want to…” Gibbs waved his hand absently. Tony glanced in the mirror while brushing his teeth and shook his head. What difference would it make, he was only going back to bed. 

“We’ll go to the store later and find something you can keep down.” Gibbs picked up the dirty clothes and stuffed them in the hamper. “Right now…” Gibbs looked around. “Right now we’re going downstairs and watch a movie.”

“Tired.” Was all Tony had the energy to say. “Cold.”

“There’s an afghan on the back of the couch.” Pushing and guiding until he got Tony down the stairs and onto the couch, Gibbs tucked the colorful afghan around him. Taking his time remembering how this all worked, Gibbs grabbed the top disc and got the movie started. There was screaming and explosions and pretty girls. Gibbs glanced over at Tony beside him and found him sound asleep, head lolled back against the couch, mouth slightly open.

With a frustrated growl, Gibbs got up and settled Tony down on the couch, making sure he was still covered and let the movie play. Walking into the kitchen he called Ducky.

 

oOo

 

Gibbs spent the afternoon listing the people Tony had saved. People who were alive because he found them or took out the perp or figured out the answer to who was after them. Finally satisfied, he went to wake Tony and found him staring out the window at the rain, afghan still wrapped around his shoulders.

“I made a list.” Gibbs walked up beside him and showed Tony the notepaper. “Read these names. These are all the people you, Anthony DiNozzo have saved. They’re alive because of you.” 

Tony glanced at Gibbs’ face first then down at the paper. There were several names on the paper, starting with _Jethro Gibbs._ His eyes darted back up at Gibbs’ face only to find him nodding. “Yes. You saved me from drowning, for just one example. I’m alive because of you.” 

Tony started to shake his head slowly. “I’m glad you’re alive, but it doesn’t work that way.”

“If you weren’t there, doing your job … this was way over your job. I would be dead and so would lots of other people. You make a difference DiNozzo.”

“But I’m not DiNozzo.” Closing his eyes in defeat, Tony shook his head and wrapping the afghan tighter around himself, started toward the stairs. At the bottom step, he stopped and looked at Gibbs who’d crumpled the paper into a wad. “DiNozzo’s lost. Maybe he saved you, saved all those people, but I’m not him.” Tony took one step up and stopped again. “If you find him… maybe you can find me cause I’m lost too.”

 

oOo

 

“She really looked up to you, you know.” Tony said out of the blue one evening while they were watching a game. “She admired you.”

“What?” Gibbs asked absently wondering who Tony was talking about. “Who admired me?”

“She never could understand why you kept me on your team.” Tony snorted softly. “She thought she deserved to be Senior Field Agent, not some silly frat boy.” Tony’s gaze on the tv never wavered even though it was playing a commercial.

You’re my Senior Field Agent because you earned it.” Gibbs wanted to reach out and touch Tony but knew he would just flinch away. _Kate. He must be talking about Kate._

Tony didn’t speak again for almost an hour. “It should’ve been me.” Tony’s voice dropped low, almost whispering. “It should’ve been me.”

“What should’ve been you?” Gibbs asked turning his head from the game having forgotten the earlier conversation. “What?”

“Me.” Tony’s hands clenched in his lap. “Should’ve been me dead on the roof.”

“No DiNozzo, don’t go there.” Gibbs reached for the remote and clicked the game off. Tony’s eyes were still staring at the black screen.

“If I’d had your six like I was supposed to, she never would’ve jumped in front of you.”

“DiNozzo—“

“Then she wouldn’t have been standing there laughing at something I said. He would’ve shot me and she’d still be here.”

“I miss her too DiNozzo, but you can’t take the blame for her. That bastard Ari is responsible for her death.” Gibbs reached out and touched Tony then, squeezing his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

Tony acted like he didn’t hear Gibbs or feel his hand on his shoulder. Gibbs could feel him hunch in on himself, closing down and squeezed harder. 

“I think it’s time for bed.” Gibbs stood and held out his hand to pull Tony up. Ducky recommended touching Tony, to bring him back to reality, but the rare times Tony allowed it, it didn’t seem to help.

Without looking up, Tony shrugged his shoulder. “I think I’ll just sit down here a bit. I’m not tired.”

“No, it’s late, come to bed.” Gibbs dropped his arm but stood waiting expectantly until Tony moved.

“Okay.” He said in the same flat tone. “I can stare at nothing up there same as down here.” 

Gibbs waited till Tony walked in front of him toward the stairs before closing his eyes briefly to pray for patience and guidance. He’d call Ducky tomorrow, there had to be something else he could suggest.

Tony slowly clumped up the stairs and turned into the spare room without a good night or turning on the light. Gibbs paused at the door and saw Tony collapse on the bed, on top of the covers.

“Good night DiNozzo.” He said softly. Tony rolled over to face the wall in answer. Gibbs sighed and walked down the hall to his own room leaving the hall light on. 

oOo

Gibbs called and asked Abby drop off a photo album. He waited until she left and beckoned Tony to sit with him on the couch. Gibbs opened the album on Tony’s lap and nodded to him. With a puzzled look at Gibbs, Tony began turning the pages and studying the pictures. At the last page he closed the book with a sigh and shook his head. “I ...”

Pulling the album from under Tony’s hands, Gibbs flipped through the pages until he came to one of the whole team. He tapped a finger on Tony’s face. He was laughing and had one arm around Abby. “This is you. This is our team. We’re not strangers.” 

Tony looked at the laughing man and shook his head. “I don’t remember him. Maybe he’s inside me somewhere, but I can’t find him. He’s… he’s hiding and doesn’t want to come out.” _Anthony DiNozzo, Jun—. NO! Ducky, Probie, Ziva and Abby and Jethro Gibbs the Avenger._

“He is _you.”_ Gibbs repeated like it was the simplest thing in the world. “You’re him.”

“It’s not that simple.” Tony grew more frustrated when he tried to explain. It was easier to just not care and go silent, but he would make one more attempt for this man, this Avenger who was so patient with him, giving him chance after chance. “I remember enough to know that it’s my fault.” 

“You’re wrong.” Gibbs leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. “It’s my fault if it’s anybody’s fault. I should have seen this and stopped it in time.”

“There isn’t any darkness in you.” Tony patted Gibbs’ knee. “I know what the darkness looks like, and there’s none in you.” 

Gibbs rolled his head to the side and gave Tony a crooked smile. “You survived the black plague DiNozzo, you’ll get through this.”

oOo


	10. – I'm a thousand miles from nowhere. Time don't matter to me 'cause I'm a thousand miles from nowhere and there's no place I want to be

oOo

 

Gibbs pulled into the parking lot and drove around and around before finding an empty space. Switching off the car and removing the key, he turned to look at Tony who was still staring listlessly out the window.

“Abby said this is your favorite Italian restaurant.” He said with forced cheerfulness, unbuckling his seatbelt. When Tony didn’t respond he sighed and pushed the red button unbuckling Tony’s belt. “Come on. I saw Abby’s car, I’m sure she’s got us a table already.” He waited until Tony slowly pushed the belt off his chest and reluctantly opened the car door and stood. Just then a red truck drove slowly past with the window partially down and a loud burst of song caught Tony’s attention.

_I'm a thousand miles from nowhere_  
Time don't matter to me  
'Cause I'm a thousand miles … 

His eyes followed the truck as it went on, mouthing the words he’d heard and suddenly it was vitally important that he remember the rest of the lyrics. If it had been soundtrack in a movie, he would have known, but he had heard the song before so the words must be in his head. _Somewhere._ He frowned in concentration and waited.

Seeing that Tony was still standing there watching the truck pull out onto the highway, Gibbs walked around the car and gently wrapped his hand around Tony’s arm and tugged. “Hey, let’s go eat.” When he noticed Tony humming the song, he recognized it as the same one blaring from the truck but he didn’t recognize it. “What’s the name of that song DiNozzo?” He asked as they went up the sidewalk and into the restaurant. “Is it in a movie?”

“Yoakum.” Tony whispered taking off his jacket and turning away from Abby’s bright face waving from a large round table in the corner. Happiness radiated off her like bright stabbing bolts of light trying to pierce his armor and it … _hurt._

“Yoakum?” Gibbs repeated taking his own jacket off. “That’s a stupid name for a movie.” Grabbing Abby before she could launch herself on Tony, Gibbs used her momentum to turn them so Abby didn’t see Tony flinch away from her, a frightened look skimming across his face before settling back to indifference

“Tony! Gibbs! Gibbs!” She twisted in Gibbs’ grip and he had to shake her lightly to get her attention. Pouting, she nodded and shook herself free.

“Calm down Abs.” Gibbs admonished and pulled one of her pigtails. She dropped the pout and grinned at Gibbs even as she wrapped her arms around Tony from behind. She held on tightly saying his name in a sing-song voice as he stood there patiently with his hands hanging laxly at his sides until she gave up with a huff and stepped back. Tossing Gibbs a rueful grin, she turned on her heel and stuck her nose in the air and walked away from them, pigtails swinging. 

“Not now Abs.” He said lightly shaking his head and taking Tony’s arm started weaving toward the table. Gibbs was relieved to see McGee standing there waiting for them, placid smile on his face. At least someone was calm tonight. 

“Hey guys.” McGee nodded at them and pulled a chair out beside him for Abby. “Sit by me Abs.” She looked longingly at the chair beside Tony before skirting the table and sitting down with a flounce beside McGee.

“MeGee.” Gibbs waited until Tony pulled out his chair and sat down before sitting down himself. “Where’s Ziva?” Gibbs picked up the menu and handed it to Tony. “What’s looks good?”

“Sorry I am late.” Ziva breezed in with Ducky and a stranger—no—Tony frowned at him. He was familiar. He’d seen the kid before…somewhere. “There was no place to park.” She settled next to Abby and let Ducky take the chair next to Tony. The nervous kid with dark hair took the last chair, sliding in between Gibbs and McGee.

When Gibbs asked Tony what he wanted, he shrugged. When Gibbs didn’t close the menu he was holding open in front of Tony, he sighed and pointed at the first item without reading what it said and dropped his hand in his lap. Taking a sip of water, he tuned them out and concentrated on remembering the words to that song, keeping his eyes focused on the flickering candle in the middle of the table. A tiny smile crossed his lips when he remembered the title _‘A Thousand Miles from Nowhere.’_ Every once in a while he hummed a little just so he wouldn’t forget.

oOo

 

Tony looked around the room at the happy families enjoying dinner letting the discordant sounds of multiple conversations and laughter wash over him without letting it touch him—not a wave of sound, but a quiet cloud passing overhead. When it was clear in his head, he looked at each of the people crowded around his table laughing at something Abby’d said. He hadn’t caught the joke, but he did see the concern in their eyes when one by one they looked at him. Giving them a small curl of his lips, he let his mind drift back to the song, _A Thousand Miles from Nowhere._ That’s where he was, even here in the midst of friends and _coworkers_ —a thousand miles from nowhere. 

oOo

 

Playing the song over in his head and singing silently along with it, he smiled ruefully to himself and decided he needed a new theme song anyway. He was as far from James Bond or Magnum as it was possible to get with no way back. 

“See, Tony agrees with me!” Abby’s voice broke into his thoughts, effectively shutting off the song. “Don’t you Tony?” Abby smiled at him hopefully. “Tony?”

“Um. What?” Looking around the table at the expectant faces staring back at him. “Oh. Sure.” Pasting a smile on, he lifted his fork and took a bite of something he didn’t remember ordering. It tasted like dust but he chewed and swallowed methodically. _I'm a thousand miles from nowhere. Time don't matter to me, 'Cause I'm a thousand miles from nowhere, And there's no place I want to be._ He let the song play in his head and hummed along, eyes on his plate until the food was gone and then he stared at the napkin in his lap.

“Time to go DiNozzo.” Gibbs touched his arm and Tony looked up at Jethro Gibbs’ concerned face in surprise and chanced a quick look around the table. They were all studiously ignoring him. McGee was helping Abby with her coat and Ducky was wrapping a scarf around his neck in the midst of one his stories. Ziva was rifling through her purse and the kid that looked familiar was headed toward the restrooms. _Ducky and Probie and Abby and Ziva. Jethro Gibbs and that kid._ No one had mentioned his name.

“Okay.” Tony stood and bent over to pick-up the napkin that fluttered to the floor. _“Time don’t matter to me.”_ Dropping it in his plate, Tony took his jacket from Jethro Gibbs and pulled it on over the button-down shirt he’d asked him to wear instead of his normal ratty sweatshirt. He watched impassively as the Avenger dropped a couple twenties on the table and wondered for a moment where his wallet had ended up. With a shrug he followed him out to the car; it didn’t matter, nothing did.

When even Gibbs was tired of the silence he switched on the radio and gave Tony a quick look out of the corner of his eye. He was getting better at watching Tony without actually ‘looking’ at him. Why don’t you find something you like?” 

With a sigh, Tony clicked from station to station, humming his song under his breath.

“What’s that you’re humming?” Gibbs asked glancing over at him. Tony looked over at Gibbs and got lost in the reflection of headlights flashing across his face. “DiNozzo? Hey, where’ve you gone?”

“What?” Tony looked back down at the radio and hit forward for another station. _“I’m a thousand miles from nowhere.”_ He mumbled and started humming the rest of the song.

“What’s that song you’re humming?” Gibbs asked with infinite patience surprising even himself. 

“Just a song.” Tony said softly. Once he would’ve went on and on about the song boring everyone with useless trivia just like he did with movies and Gibbs bit his lip wishing for those days to come back, for DiNozzo to come back. “My song.”

“Do you have the cd?” Gibbs asked. “Want to stop by your apartment and check?”

“Okay.” Tony shrugged and leaned back leaving the radio playing something that sounded like a Mexican polka to Gibbs who grimaced and quickly switched it off. _“There’s no place I wanna be.”_ Tony sang under his breath starting fiddling with the seat belt aimlessly.

“What’s that?” Gibbs glanced over at him and slung the car around a corner. Tony stared out the window still humming the song as Gibbs changed direction and headed for Tony’s apartment. “Where do you wanna be?” Tony shrugged and Gibbs let it go.

When they pulled into Tony’s parking spot, Gibbs prepared to get out and looked at Tony who was still staring out the side window, apparently at the car parked next to them. “You coming?” He finally asked when Tony didn’t move.

“Okay.” Tony unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car without looking at Gibbs, slowly following him inside and up the stairs softly singing the chorus. 

Gibbs fished through his keys for a moment before finding the one for the door while Tony stood motionless beside him. A door down the hall opened and an old lady shuffled out.

“Anthony? Anthony is that you?” She called out in a querulous voice wobbling down the hallway, leaning heavily on her walker. “Where have you been? Anthony DiNozzo, answer me this instant!” The walker thumped closer. “Tony!”

Gibbs got the door open and Tony walked inside ignoring the old woman. Gibbs glanced at her and put the keys back in his pocket. “He’s been … ill.” He shrugged at her. “He’s not himself.”

“He looks fine to me!” She stopped in front of Gibbs and hunched forward, leaning heavily on the walker. “What’s wrong with him?” Twisting her head around to look up at Gibbs, she gave him a disbelieving glare.

Gibbs glanced in the door and saw Tony standing in the middle of the room, a patch of moonlight from the window shining on his hair, shoulders slumped and staring down at the carpet, hands in his jacket pocket. He hadn’t even bothered to switch on the light. “He…” Gibbs mind raced as he tried to think of something, anything but the truth. “Head injury.” He finally said and with a frown, he stepped in and pushed the door closed behind him, flicking the switch as he went by.

“I think she’s worried about you.” Gibbs said absently as he looked around at Tony’s apartment. He’d been here before, but now stripped of the big screen TV and the dozens of DVDs that had always been scattered across every surface it looked … abandoned. Shaking his head, Gibbs strode toward the cabinet where Tony kept his DVD and CD collection and pulled open both doors. “We all are.” At least he’d stopped humming that damn song. He already regretted stopping and hoped he didn’t find the damn CD, but it had elicited more of a reaction out of Tony than anything lately so he figured he could stand to listen to it a thousand times if necessary.

“Why?” Gibbs turned around and leaned against the cabinet. This was the first time Tony’d been curious about anything and he couldn’t let it go to waste. Tony was looking at him instead of the floor and that was a start.

“Because we care about you.” He said waiting for some emotion to settle on Tony’s face. 

“But why?” Tony shook his head slightly in confusion. “Why would you care? It’s still my fault. Nothing is going change that. Nothing.” _I got bruises on my memory. I got tear stains on my hands and in the mirror there's a vision of what used to be a man._ Tony pulled his hands out of his pockets and studied them before walking over to the mirror in the tiny foyer to study his reflection.

Mindful of Ducky’s admonition that Tony needed regular touches to ground him, Gibbs calmly walked over and pulled an unresisting Tony into a quick hug turning him slightly away from the mirror. “You’re our friend and teammate. We love you. We want you to get better. We want you to come back to us.”

He squeezed Tony’s shoulders again and stood back, close enough to see the flicker in Tony’s eyes.

“You?” Tony mumbled pushing his hands deeper in his pockets and dropped his chin. _I got heartaches in my pocket. I got echoes in my head._

“Me what?” Gibbs asked carefully. 

“You keep saying ‘we’. Do _you_ care?” Tony lifted his eyes to look at Gibbs. _And all that I keep hearing, are the cruel, cruel things that you said._ Wait, Tony blinked. Jethro Gibbs had never said it was his fault. Jethro Gibbs had said … something else, something different. Jethro Gibbs…

“Yes of course I care.” Gibbs nodded reaching out to touch Tony’s shoulder, rubbing his fingers up and down.

“Why?” Tony frowned as if he was trying hard to understand. “Why do you care?” _I'm a thousand miles from nowhere and there's no place I want to be._ But what if there was? What if he wanted to be … here?

“Because I do.” Gibbs steeled his voice to keep any impatience from showing. “You’re my senior agent, my friend. I’m responsible for your safety and –“ 

“But I didn’t get hurt.” Tony interrupted. “I didn’t get—“ 

“Yes you did!” Gibbs growled intensely, forgetting that shouting frightened Tony. “You were hurt so badly… for so long.” Take a slow, deep breath he registered the fact that Tony had stepped back, both hands coming up to his mouth, hazel eyes full of alarm and Gibbs raised both hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean to shout at you, DiNozzo.” He took another breath and let it out slowly. “We just want to make you better. _I_ want to make you better.” 

He waited while Tony lowered his hands and the fright drained from his eyes. “But why?” 

Frustrated, Gibbs rubbed a hand down his face. Why had he insisted on being the one taking care of Tony, he was no good at this. Abby would be better at the touching and the talking and the whole emotions thing. When he looked at Tony again, he was still standing there, head tilted to one side, waiting for Gibbs to answer.

“Because… because …” Gibbs stammered dropping his eyes for a moment and then looked up again with piercing eyes. “Because we’re family. Because we love you, Tony. We all love you.”

“Oh.” He could see Tony’s mind working that over. “I still don’t understand. _Why_ would you love me?” He took a step closer to Gibbs and stopped and shook his head again. “It doesn’t make any sense.” _… a thousand miles from nowhere and …and … he called me Tony._

“Because … Tony.” Gibbs pulled Tony into another hug and rocked him back and forth gently. “Because you’re worth loving.” He whispered hoping it was enough. 

“Boss?” Tony’s voice broke and the word ended in a sob. “Boss, I…”

Gibbs held him, rocking them gently in the middle of his living room until Tony relaxed against him and lifted both arms to tentatively hug him back. Gibbs blinked hard at the sting of tears and pulled Tony tighter. “You’re gonna be all right Tony. You’re gonna be all right.” 

oOo

 

Finis.

**Author's Note:**

> Song: A Thousand Miles from Nowhere by Dwight Yoakum.
> 
> I'm a thousand miles from nowhere  
> Time don't matter to me  
> 'Cause I'm a thousand miles from nowhere  
> And there's no place I want to be 
> 
> I got heartaches in my pocket  
> I got echoes in my head  
> And all that I keep hearing  
> Are the cruel, cruel things that you said 
> 
> I'm a thousand miles from nowhere  
> Time don't matter to me  
> 'Cause I'm a thousand miles from nowhere  
> And there's no place I want to be
> 
> Oh, I  
> Oh, I  
> Oh, I  
> Oh, I  
> Oh, I  
> Oh, I  
> Oh, I  
> Oh, I 
> 
> I got bruises on my memory  
> I got tear stains on my hands  
> And in the mirror there's a vision  
> Of what used to be a man 
> 
> I'm a thousand miles from nowhere  
> Time don't matter to me  
> 'Cause I'm a thousand miles from nowhere  
> And there's no place I want to be 
> 
> I'm a thousand miles from nowhere  
> Time don't matter to me  
> 'Cause I'm a thousand miles from nowhere  
> And there's no place I want to be 
> 
> Oh, I
> 
> I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
> 
> I'm a thousand miles from nowhere


End file.
